


Comfort Food

by Jess4400



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Canon-typical Cursing, Child Neglect, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Max has 0 customer service skills, Max never went to camp, MomGwen, NOT m/a/x/v/i/d or m/a/x/g/w/e/n you nasties, Please pretend that Camp Campbell kids don't stay overnight and that Gwen gets the weekend off, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, we still love him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 17:42:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19233997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jess4400/pseuds/Jess4400
Summary: Gwen has had an awful day. After getting dumped by her boyfriend of three years, she decides to check out the Indian place at a nearby strip mall for a distraction. Max, meanwhile, has also had an awful day. His parents yelled at him for messing up an order earlier, and messing with a customer is just the thing he needs to lift his spirits.Or: Chronological stories of Gwen visiting her new favorite restaurant (featuring her new favorite menace, Max Khanna)





	1. Chicken 65

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max pranks our favorite camp counselor.

Gwen is an emotional eater.

She’ll admit to it. In 9th grade, when she didn’t make the volleyball team, she ate her feelings away with two pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream. When her mom died a couple years ago, she devoured three plates at the local Mexican buffet. And today, when her boyfriend dumps her for a basic-ass valley girl, her craving for comfort food rears it’s ugly head yet again.

This is how she finds herself at Khanna’s Kitchen, an empty little Indian restaurant nestled in a strip mall next to Walmart. Sitting at the counter is a curly-haired Indian boy wearing a blue hoodie. He seems engrossed in a game on his phone. He looks a little young to be working, Gwen thinks. Maybe his parents are the owners? Before she can ponder it further, the boy glances up from his phone and gives her a disgusted look.

“Jeeze, what the fuck is wrong with _you?_   You look like you just got dumped or something,” he says. Great, Gwen thinks. Despite her efforts to scrub her face of tears, even a 10-year-old can pick up on her misery. Irritation spikes in the pit of her stomach. She’s not in the mood for a little kid to tease her; especially when the goal of this trip was to make herself feel better with comfort food.

“I did. Fuck off,” she snaps. The kid throws his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide.

“Damn, okay! _Sorry_.” He seems to shrink in on himself, ducking his head behind the cash register. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs. She didn’t mean to scare him. For as tough as he was acting, she didn’t think her outburst would affect him, much less make him apologetic. She’ll let it slide this time. If only she could rub this in Jason’s face. She doesn’t hold grudges; Fuck him!

 “It’s fine,” she says. The kid visibly relaxes and sits up straight on his stool. With her arms hugging herself, Gwen examines the menu hung above the kid’s head and realizes she has absolutely no idea what any of the food is. The anxiety hits her full force as she tries to decipher the foreign language and grainy pictures. He watches her with a curious expression.

“So…Are you ready to order…? He asks tentatively, probably wanting to avoid another outburst. She chuckles. At least she’s not the only anxious one. This thought helps her pull herself together enough to ask him for recommendations. He narrows his eyes and tilts his head. He glances at the menu and then looks her up and down, like he’s sizing her up.

“Do you want something spicy? You look Mexican, so I think you could handle it.” Gwen snorts.

“Don’t profile me, you little shit.” The kid grins. She rolls her eyes. “But yeah, I am. Mexican. So, give me something so spicy that I’ll be shitting a waterfall for days.” The kid laughs and honestly, it’s music to Gwen’s ears. She’s been listening to the sound of her own snot-filled sniffling for the past hour, so the sound of joy is a welcome one.

The kid turns around and yells something in another language into the kitchen. Hindi, probably? She’s not entirely sure. The kid faces her again and gestures to a beat-up table and chairs across the room.

“You can go have a seat. I’ll bring your food out in a minute. Try not to cry too much while you wait, yeah?” He teases, reverting to his earlier snarky attitude. This time, however, he seems softer, his eyes crinkling with concern. Gwen smiles.

“Yeah, yeah, suck my dick,” she retaliates. The kid snickers and bounces away to help the cooks make her food. Gwen grabs her bag and makes her way to the table.

Sitting down, she realizes that the place is a lot shabbier than she originally thought. The chair across from her somehow only has three legs, and the table itself has mini dicks drawn on it in permanent marker. In front of her table, on the wall, there is a T.V. playing some Bollywood movie. She spots the restaurant rating near the front counter and is not surprised to see the “B” stamped on front. Is it too late to bail, she wonders? The kid inadvertently answers her question by bringing out a serving tray with her order.

“Alright, I ordered you a Chicken 65 and slipped as many spices on it as they’d let me. You’re welcome,” he says, placing the plate in front of her. “I also brought some Naan bread for you to eat on the side.” She glances at the food. It doesn’t look too bad, actually. Maybe she judged the place too quickly.

“I forgot to ask,” the kid starts, balancing the empty tray on his hip, “Did you want anything to drink?”

“Just a coke is fine,” she says. As the kid walks away to fetch her drink, she digs into her meal. She lifts a forkful to her mouth and the spices burst on her tongue. He wasn’t kidding about the extra spices! She really wishes she had her drink. She prays the kid comes back quickly before her taste buds disintegrate.

Thankfully, the kid rounds the corner and sets her drink down beside her. She gulps it greedily, pointedly ignoring the shit-eating grin he gives her.

“It’s good, huh?” He teases.

“If I could actually taste anything over my mouth being on fire, I’d let you know.”

“Oh, calm down, it’s not that bad. I thought you said you could handle it?” His grin gets bigger.

Gwen ignores him and takes another swig of her drink. Putting on a brave face, she takes another bite of the chicken. After a few chews, she decides it’s not too bad once you get used to it. She tears off a piece of naan bread to try. The kid waits in suspense, tapping his foot.

“Okay, fine. You win. It’s pretty damn good,” the kid smirks. After a moment of awkward lingering, he asks a question that will change both of their lives forever.

“Can I...Can I sit with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen: I came here to eat my feelings away and all I got was this shithead 10-year-old
> 
> Also-Did Max "forget" the drink on purpose? You decide!


	2. Naan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Max officially meet.

"So why did your boyfriend dump you?” The kid asks, stealing her bread plate. Gwen sighs.

“Really?” She waves her fork in lazy circles, “ _That’s_ what you choose to start out with? Not even a ‘Hi, what’s your name?’”

“What can I say, I’m a gossip.” He leans over the table and holds out a hand for her to shake. “The name’s Max. And yours?”

“Gwen,” she responds, shaking his tiny hand.

“Great. Now spill. Why did your boyfriend dump you, dumbass?” He leans back in his chair, munching on his bread. Her bread. Ugh, that little mooch!

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” She bites, snatching the plate of bread back.

“Technically, no. I’m 10. Child labor laws and shit. But my parents don’t care about that,” He unravels a silverware roll and plucks out a fork. “Anyway, if you haven’t noticed, you’re like, the only person here. I think I can step away from my demanding position at the counter for a while to hear your little sob story.”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m _bored_ , Gwen.” He swipes a piece of chicken with his fork. Gwen sighs, yet again. Is this what it’s like having children? Thank God Jason never knocked her up. If she had a kid like Max, she would be tempted to strangle him.

“Did you guys get in a fight? Did you cheat on him? Did he cheat on _you_?” Max guesses. Gwen growls, feeling a headache coming on. This kid is smart, she’ll give him that.

“Ding, ding, ding,” she says, “The first and the last ones.” She stabs her fork into a piece of chicken.

“Damn, that sucks,” he frowns, swallowing another piece of stolen bread. He chews on his lip, looking lost in thought. Eventually he pipes up with a devious suggestion.

“Do you wanna do what I do when I get mad?” Gwen looks up from her food and decides to play along.

“Sure, why not?”

Gwen never thought she’d be drawing dicks on a table in a run-down Indian restaurant after spilling her guts to a 10-year-old, yet here she is. She glances across the table at Max, who is adding an abundance of pubes to his creation.

“You don’t think we’ll get in trouble for this?” she questions. Max stops drawing and taps the end of the marker on his chin.

“Nah. But if we do, I’ll make sure to pin it on you. That’s what I did to Old Man Q last time.”

 Gwen narrows her eyes. “You’re evil, aren’t you?”

Max lights up as if that’s a compliment. “Sure am!”

Gwen manages a small smile. It fades abruptly as she realizes she needs to get going soon. She has to meet David at 6 a.m. to clean up Camp Campbell before the kids arrive for the summer. She is _not_ going to meet up with him with only a few hours of sleep under her belt like last time. It was a miracle David survived her wrath.

“As much as I’d like to stay here and deface property with you, kid, I gotta get going. I have to get up early for work in the morning.” Max deflates.

“Oh, okay. Um. Will you come back?” He tries to say nonchalantly, but Gwen can’t miss the pleading tone in his voice. She smiles. It’s been a long time since someone actually wanted her company. She supposes she could stop by again sometime. Besides, the food _was_ pretty good.

“Sure, Max. How about next Friday? Will you be working then?” She asks, fishing out her wallet from her purse.

“Duh,” he rolls his eyes. He spots her wallet and swats her hand away, “I already paid for it.” Dumbfounded, Gwen blinks. This is _not_ what she was expecting. She decides to tease him.

“Thanks for being a gentleman, but I think I’m a little too old for you, kid.” Max gags over-dramatically and stands up on his chair. He points his finger at her sternly.

“Ew, fucking **_gross!_**   Do NOT make it weird!” Gwen snorts.

“Seriously! I just wanted to be nice since you just got dumped on your ass and you were all sad and stuff! I do NOT want to date you!” Gwen laughs. Actually fucking laughs--the type of laugh that makes tears come out of your eyes—and puts her hand on his shoulder to force him to sit back down. “Jesus Christ, I’m just kidding!”

Max plops down and lets out a sigh of relief. “Oh. Thank God!”

“Damn, that hurts. I just got dumped, Max.”

“Shut the fuck up. No more talking from you. Get out of my restaurant,” he pouts, not liking being on the receiving end of a joke.

“Sure Max. See you next Friday?”

He grins, a devilish plan of revenge already forming, “Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, bitch.”


	3. Butter Chicken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max enacts revenge.

When Gwen arrives on Friday, she’s greeted by the sight of a grinning Max at the counter. She may have only met the kid once, but she thinks she has a good enough read on him to know that he’s up to no good.

“Oh, hello, Gwen! Lovely to see you here. Golly, isn’t it such a beautiful day?” He clasps his hands in front of himself sweetly. Gwen narrows her eyes.

“What did you do, you little shit?” Max blinks, baring his teeth even wider. Gwen thinks he looks like a shark about to eat its prey.

“Me? Oh nothing, really. Just have a seat. Sit back, relax! I’ll come by your table in a second. I have to run and get something.” Gwen sighs, reluctantly following his instructions. Hopefully his good mood isn’t an indicator of incoming chaos.

“Oh, Gwe~en,” he sings, reentering the room, “I have a surprise for you!”

“Oh, no,” she cups her face in her hands and regrets her decision to trust Max’s morality. Her reaction apparently eggs him on, because he bounces on his toes while continuing, “Since you’re a sad, single bitch now, I decided to take matters into my own hands to help you out.”

“Max, _please_ say that you didn’t invite someone to go out on a date with me.” Gwen doesn’t think Max’s grin can get any wider.

“Don’t worry Gwen! I picked only the best for you!” He runs to the break room, cups his hands, and yells for the mystery person to “come on out!” Max pumps his arms in excitement as the gangly mystery person emerges from behind the door.

Gwen’s mouth drops to the floor. None other than her coworker at Camp Campbell’s is standing right in front of her, nicely dressed, and holding a bouquet of pink flowers.

“Gwen?” David squeaks, sounding just as surprised as she feels.

 _“David?"_ She yells right back.

Max looks stunned. His eyes dart back and forth between the two of them. “Wait, you guys know each other?!”

Gwen double face-palms and drags her hands down her cheeks. “Yes, idiot. I work with him. You literally couldn’t have picked anyone worse!”

Max gasps. “Really?! This turned out WAY better than I expected!” He rolls around on the floor and laughs. Gwen bites down the urge to kick the shit out of him.

“Well, this is awkward!” David rubs the back of his neck, “but since we’re already here, do you still want to have lunch together?? It doesn’t have to be a date or anything! Just two pals being pals—”

“David, shut up.” His mouth clamps shut. She pinches the bridge of her nose, “Max, you too.” She nudges his rolling form with her foot with a little more force than necessary. He sits up and tries to calm himself down. He uses the inside of his hoodie to wipe the tears from his eyes. Gwen has never wanted to murder someone more. He stands up and claps his hands, a few giggles escaping as he tries to regain seriousness.

“Alright, go sit down, and I’ll bring you your drinks and your menus for your, hehe, _date_.” Gwen clenches her fist in a warning. David looks confused.

“Max, you don’t even have menus here—” He starts, before Max shoves a piece of notebook paper in his hands.

“Shut up! This has to be a proper date! Here are your menus. I made them myself!”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Gwen says, examining the dirty paper. “What is this stain?” Max leans in and looks at the spot she’s pointing at.

“Looks like turmeric,” he shrugs, “Listen, all I had was a shitty notebook that my parents use for orders. Cut me some slack.”

Gwen rolls her eyes and returns to studying her “menu.” Across the table, David is doing the same. Max rolls his eyes.

“David, don’t look so serious. Your white ass always just orders naan every time.”

“Not true! Last time I tried that curry you gave me!” Max snickers.

“Yeah, and you almost threw up. It was great.”

“He got you with that one too, huh?” Gwen rolls her eyes, but she can’t help but let a small smile pass her lips.

“Yes! My goodness, I have never tasted anything so spicy in my life!”

“I almost had to call an ambulance,” Max adds, “My parents were so pissed. Worth it, though.”

Gwen laughs at Max’s antics. She can’t even be mad at him anymore. This “date” is actually turning out to be a hell of a time. Any opportunity to see David getting messed with is a welcome one. The guy has the funniest reactions.

“I would’ve paid to see that,” she quips, meeting his eyes.” Max jumps up and down and waves his arms.

“You still can! Give me five dollars and I’ll send you the video I took from my phone!” Gwen guffaws and pounds her hand on the table as she laughs. David looks absolutely miserable.

“Now, Max, it isn’t nice to tease me like this! Delete that video right now, young man!” Gwen laughs so hard that she snorts. Max looks absolutely delighted to have caused such a reaction.

“Suck my dick, _David,”_ He responds. As Gwen’s laughter finally dies down, he asks her what she wants. She gets her usual, a chicken 65, extra spicy. David, unsurprisingly, orders naan.

“Listen dude,” Max pipes, “You need to try new things. Expand your palate and shit. Why don’t you try something a little more adventurous?” David gives him a skeptical look.

“Okay, that’s fair,” Max shrugs. He taps his pen to his cheek before speaking. “What if I pick something for you and promise not to put a bunch of spices on it?” Max gives him puppy dog eyes.

“David, I’m warning you, it’s a trap—” Gwen says.

David looks at her and then back to Max. He sighs loudly. “Fine, but I’m trusting you, Max. Promise that you’ll pick something mild.”

“I promise!” Max claps his hands, “Now if you could please hand me you menus—” Gwen balls up the piece of paper and chucks it at his head. David’s jaw drops.

“Gwen!”

“Fucking _rude_!”

Gwen snickers at the pure indignation of the boys and leans back in her chair. Max huffs, dramatically picking up the paper and kicking the leg of her chair. He stomps off to the kitchen to deliver their orders. Gwen watches him with a fond smile.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” David says with a matching smile. Gwen scoffs.

“As if! He’s a little gremlin! I can’t get any peace whenever I come here.” David giggles and shakes his head, not believing her for a second. Gwen needs to change the subject before she can be accused anymore.

“So, how do you know Max anyway?” Is the best she can come up with. David stirs his iced tea with a straw. He takes a sip, makes a face, and tears open another Splenda packet.

“I came in here one day to pick up some food for my ex-girlfriend one time. While we were waiting for the food, he made fun of my hair. I was outraged! Then, he tried to “make it up to me” by giving me a free order of the curry he had just made. And, well…You heard how well that turned out.” He gives her a sheepish grin. She can’t help but snort.

The conversation moves on to Camp Campbell, then her studies, then David’s dog. Finally, Max emerges from the kitchen with a large serving tray.

“Alright!” Max yells. “Here’s a chicken 65 for Gwen,” he places the plate in front of her, “And here's some butter chicken for you, David. I swear to God, I made yours myself and I put BARELY any spices in it.”

David blinks at the plate Max places in front of him. Gwen winces. Max’s food presentation skills are severely lacking, but at least it smells good. She crosses her fingers under the table that Max isn’t pranking him again. As funny as it would probably be, she has to deal with him at work tomorrow, and she doesn’t want him to be shitting his guts out all day.

David pokes his chicken with a fork. He glances at Max nervously. Max rolls his eyes and gives him a frantic “go on,” motion. David picks up a piece and takes a small bite. Once he realizes the taste isn’t actually hot, he eats the whole piece. Max waits in anticipation.

“Is it good?” He asks shyly. David wipes the edges of his mouth with a napkin before meeting Max’s eyes.

“Yes, very!” He smiles. “You made this all by yourself, Max?” Max practically melts under the praise.

“Um, yeah. I had to substitute some ingredients so it wasn’t so spicy, so it’s not _true_ butter chicken, but—”

“Wow, that’s incredible! You’re such a good little chef! I’m so proud of you!” David rustles Max’s hair. Gwen thinks that if Max was fair-skinned, his face would be bright red right now. He swats David’s hand away, already tired of the attention. He adjusts his curly hair, returning it to a pre-David state.

“God, it’s just chicken. It’s not that fucking hard.” David pouts.

“Just take the compliment, asshole,” Gwen says. Max grumbles something under his breath and stalks away back to the counter.

“It really is good, Gwen,” David justifies, “I promise I wasn’t just saying that! Do you think he’s mad at me?” Gwen laughs. God, David is such a good-hearted idiot.

“No,” she smiles, taking a bite of her chicken, “He just doesn’t know how to take a compliment. I think he actually loved it. Did you see how excited he was for you to try it? I thought he was just going to trick you, but I think he genuinely wanted you to like the food this time.”

“Oh! Hmm. I think so too! Maybe I won’t lay it on so thick next time though. That might help.”

“Next time?” Gwen raises her eyebrows. David sputters, waving his hands back and forth. “I’m sorry! I wasn’t even thinking! I’m just having such a great time, I—”

“David, relax. I’m just teasing,” she tucks her hair behind her ear, “I’m having a great time too.”

“So you would want to do this again sometime?” David asks incredulously.

“ _Yes_ , David.

“Like…As a date?”

“Oh my God, YES, David.

“Just clarifying!” Gwen can’t help but smile. He really is an idiot. Suddenly, she feels something hit the back of her head. It seems like David didn’t notice. Curious, she reaches down to the floor to pick up the projectile. It seems to be a paper airplane. Knowing it’s probably from Max, she opts to open it out of David’s sight, just in case it has any embarrassing blackmail inside. She can’t help but laugh at the message.

 

 

 

 

> _This plan fucking sucks. I literally pick THE most annoying person on the planet and you’re ACTUALLY having a good time??????????? What the fuck?????? You weren’t supposed to like each other!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!_
> 
> _Fuck you,_
> 
> _Max_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having so much fun with this fic! I've already written some plotty stuff for later, but if there's any silly ideas you have that you want to see in the meantime, let me know! Thank you for reading!


	4. Coca-Cola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max has a bad day.

Gwen will admit that Fridays are now her favorite part of the week.

It’s not just that she gets off from work early on Fridays. Sure, that perk fucking rules, but it’s not even the best part. The  _best p_ art about Fridays is visiting Max. This kid somehow managed to worm his way into her schedule. On Fridays, she packs up at camp, drives back to town, and stops at Khanna’s in a comforting routine she's worked out for herself. Sometimes, when she’s low on cash, like today, she doesn’t even buy anything. She just comes by to keep him company. His parents, when they actually make themselves known (instead of hiding in the back, like usual) give her the stink eye when she does this. She can't bring herself to care. Something about them rubs her the wrong way anyway.

Max’s voice breaks her out of her musing.

“Gwen?” he asks, poking her on the arm, “Your move.”

Oh, right. They’re playing Battleships. She found the busted up game in Campbell’s attic earlier when she was cleaning. She figured Max would enjoy it; the kid has a knack for strategy games.

“My bad,” she apologizes, studying the board. She takes a wild guess. “D5.”

“Nope,” Max responds, popping the ‘p.’

“E5?”

“No.”

Gwen groans. “Damn, I forgot how boring this game is.”

Max shrugs, not caring one way or the other. His eyes trail up to the TV in the corner playing _LOC Kargil._

"We could do something else if you want,” he suggests. Gwen thinks for a moment. She needs to think of something good. The kid looks especially tired today. Before she has time to respond, Max’s mom leans over the front counter and yells into the dining room at him. Max startles, spilling his pieces all over the floor.

“Ek minat!” He yells back, stumbling to throw the pieces back into the box. He pouts. “Sorry, Gwen, I have to go.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles. She helps him pick up remaining tiny ships and secures the lid. He gives her a grateful look. “I’ll be back. Did you want to order anything, or…?” He trails off, his voice low. She can practically feel the angry glare of his mother on his back. She decides to order a soda to keep him out of trouble. He exhales in relief, giving her a small smile.

“Got it. Just a Coke, right?” Gwen nods. Max scrambles to help another customer that just walked in. She shakes her head, her mood already darkening. She doesn’t think it’s fair that Max has to spend his whole summer working. He’s only ten, and from what she’s gathered, he only gets paid a fraction of what he should be getting. She watches him flit from table to table, refilling drinks. The restaurant is surprisingly busy today, by Khanna’s standards. Two take-out orders come and go while Gwen waits for her Coke. She plays on her phone, tapping her foot impatiently, trying to pass the time until Max comes back.

When he _finally_ rounds the corner with her drink, a customer bumps into him, causing half of the sugary liquid to slosh out of the cup and onto the floor. “Mother _fucker_ ,” he hisses, glaring at the oblivious man. He sighs, sounding much too weary to be a child. Gwen almost laughs at the pure spite he radiates, but memories of her waitressing days remind her that his annoyance is entirely justified.

“It’s fine, Max.” She gives him an encouraging smile, “You’ve got this. I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.” Max blinks. He mutters a grumbly “Thanks” and rushes back to the kitchen, despite her reassurance.

Gwen drums her fingers on the table. When Max returns, he looks even more pissed than he was before. He slams her drink on the table.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” She asks, wiping up the dribble of spilled soda from her cup.

“Sorry,” he says, instantly looking regretful. “I didn’t mean to set it down so hard,” he glares in the direction of the kitchen, " _Some people_ are just pissing me off.”

“Your mom?” She guesses. He blinks in surprise before returning to his semi-permanent pout.

“Yeah. She’s pissed,” Max squeezes the serving tray in his left hand, “She’s mad because I spilled your soda and “wasted product.” She also can't _stand_ that I was playing games with you earlier. Which makes no fucking sense, considering there wasn’t even anyone here!”

“That fucking sucks,” Gwen sympathizes. Truly, she means it. She wishes that Max could just come hang out with her at Campbell’s for the summer, away from his rude parents. However, she knows that summer camp probably isn’t an option for him. His parents seem like the type who wouldn’t want to give up their underpaid worker in exchange for his enjoyment.

“Yeah,” he sighs, handing her a wrapped straw, “But thankfully, they’ll be gone tomorrow. My cousin, one of the cooks back there, is going to run the shop for a week."

“That’s good,” she compromises.

“Yeah,” They fall into an uncomfortable silence. He pulls out a creaky chair across from her and collapses in it. Gwen is thankful that it doesn’t break. Max crosses his arms on the table, forming a makeshift pillow. He rests his chin on the crook of his elbow and sighs.

“I’m sorry today wasn’t very fun,” he mumbles, frowning. Gwen’s heart clenches. He’s having a horrible day and the thing that worries him is that _Gwen_ didn’t have fun?

“Dumbass, it’s not your responsibility to entertain me,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I come here because I like to visit you, yeah, but I understand that you have a job to do.”

“I guess…” He looks away, not entirely convinced. If only there was a way to cheer him up. Her eyes latch onto a colorful poster taped up on the wall and an idea hits her like a bag of bricks.

“Hey, Max?” She asks slowly, “Your shift’s almost over, isn’t it?”

Max looks up, confused. He pulls his cracked android out of his pocket and checks the time. “Yeah..?”

Gwen grins. “How about we hit up the carnival when you’re done?” His face lights up as he registers her invitation. Gwen doesn’t think she’s ever seen the kid so excited.

Damn, her wallet is going to hate her today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen: Okay, no spending money today. I'm broke.  
> Max: *is sad*  
> Gwen: shit.
> 
> Hindi words/phrases  
> Ek minat: one minute


	5. Cheerios

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Gwen go to a carnival.

“That was the coolest. Fucking. Thing. Ever!” Max exclaims, clutching his new prize. “Did you see his dumbass face when you knocked all of the cans down?” Max breaks off into giggles. Gwen can’t stop herself from joining in.

“Yeah, we really showed him, huh? That’ll teach him not to be a sexist prick! Telling me I don’t know how to throw a ball. Bitch, I invented throwing things.” She gestures wildly. Max laughs even harder. She grins at him, his joy being the only prize she needs. She continues on, hoping to keep the smile on his face as long as she can.

“And then I smiled all sweet at him and said: “Give me the bear, mother _fucker_ ,” she lowers her voice in her best Batman imitation. Max laughs so hard that he snorts. Gwen thinks his laugh is the greatest thing in the world. She joins in, snatching the bear from his hands and raising it in victory.

“And now! We have the fruits of our labor! The best bear the world has ever seen!” Max’s steals it back from her and giggles again. He looks at her like she’s the whole world and she doesn’t know how to feel about that.

“What should we name him?” Max asks, shyly reaching for her hand. His eyes sparkle with excitement and damn, it really hits her. This kid is 10-years-old. He’s so small and tired and holy shit, she’s the supposed to be the responsible adult here, huh? She clasps his tiny hand in her own and she wants to cry. The kid has so much love to give, but the world doesn’t even give him the chance. Fuck that. She may not know what she’s doing, but she’s going to try to be a good role model for him. Somebody _fucking_  has to.

“Gwen?” He squirms, his eyes searching her face, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she blinks, giving his hand a quick squeeze, “Just thinking. I can’t think of any good names. Maybe you’ll think of something as we walk around.” Max grins.

The duo continues walking around the carnival, stopping mainly at the most vomit-inducing rides. Gwen internally winces every time she swipes her card to buy more tickets, but the smile on Max’s face is worth it. When they stumble across _The Zipper,_ the holy grail of the whole carnival, Gwen challenges Max to ride it. Backwards. Of course, he agrees. By the end of it, they’re both yelling and whooping to burn off the adrenaline rush. They ride a few more low-ticket rides and decide that they’re both getting tired. They make their way back to the gravel parking lot and pile into the car, Gwen in the driver’s seat, and Max in the back. They pull out of the spot and hit the road. Gwen glances in her rearview mirror to see Max hugging his new bear with a small smile on his face.

“Did you ever decide what you were going to name him?” Gwen asks, her eyes flicking back to the road.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he responds. Max moves to lay down when he feels something crunch under his hand. It’s a half-eaten Ziplock bag of Cheerios. He opens it and takes a handful, crunching loudly. Gwen snaps around, catching him in the act.

“Hey, you little shit, I was saving that—”

“His name is Mr. Honeynuts,” he grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gwen: I'm your mom now


	6. Saffron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Max taste-test some Diwali desserts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The author doesn't know how to have consistent chapter lengths pass it on

When next Friday rolls around, Gwen can’t muster up the strength to get out of bed and go to work. She feels absolutely awful. Her brain feels like it’s about to pound right out of her skull. Damn it, of course a migraine would hit on her favorite day. She groans in frustration. Her cat jumps on the bed and rubs her head on Gwen’s hand. The bells on her collar jingle as she moves, sending pinpricks of pain to Gwen’s temple. She gives the cat a soft pat on the head.

“Guess I’d better call off work, huh, Snuggles?” Snuggles purrs in agreement. Without getting up, Gwen fumbles to grab her phone off of the nightstand. She needs to call David and let him know. She hates the fact that he’ll be stuck there alone, but she knows that if she were to set one foot into camp while having a migraine, David would be very upset with her. They’ve done this whole song and dance before. At least she’ll only be gone for half of a day, she justifies. This funk should blow over by the time she has to return on Monday.

When David picks up the phone, he’s just as excitable as always. Gwen has to ask him nicely to keep his voice down. She explains her predicament and predictably, he’s on-brand overbearing. Gwen assures him that yes, she’ll be fine, and that yes, he needs to get back to work. Finally, she manages to get him to hang up after the fifth “Are you sure you’re okay?” Now, she just needs to call Max. She dials the restaurant’s number and prays that his parents aren’t the ones who pick up.

“Hello?” A deep male voice answers the phone. Although the man has a thick accent, she doesn’t recognize the voice as belonging to Max’s dad. Maybe mystery guy is one of the cooks?

“Hi,” she says softly, “Is Max there?” She hears shuffling on the other line.

_“Makhesh!”_ The stranger yells. She grits her teeth at the explosion of sound. Even more shuffling on the other side almost makes her throw the phone in pained frustration. Finally, she hears the voice she’s looking for.

“Hello, this is Khanna’s Kitchen, how may I help you?’ Max asks in what he dubs his ‘customer service voice.’ Gwen smiles.

“Hey, Max, it’s Gwen.” She says, rolling over on her side and massaging her temple.

“Gwen? Why are _you_ calling? Aren’t you coming in later?”

“Yeah, about that,” she winces, “I have the worst migraine right now. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. I already called off of work and everything. Sorry, buddy.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he says softly. A beat passes, “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, I’ll be okay. I’ll make it up to you later when I feel better, okay?” She reassures. Max goes quiet on the other line, though it sounds like he’s walking around.

_“Avinash, Meri Sahayata Kijeeye?”_ She assumes he’s talking to the mystery guy. She wonders if he forgot that she’s still on the phone. She hears the two whisper for a moment before the line crackles with movement.

“Okay, I’m back,” he says. “I’ll talk to you later, then?” Gwen has questions, but she decides to save them for another time. She feels like actual death.

“Yeah, next Friday, I promise.” Max hums in agreement.

“Okay. I hope you feel better, Gwen.”

“Bitch, me too. The fuck,” She groans dramatically. Max snickers at her dead meme. Mystery guy says something in the background that Gwen can’t make out.

“Bye, Gwen.” The line clicks. With all of her usual responsibilities taken care of, she can finally rest. She adjusts her pillow and plays a tingly head massage ASMR video on her phone.

After a few hours of fitful sleep, the sound of her doorbell ringing non-stop jolts her awake. She throws on a robe, clamps her hands over her ears, and stomps downstairs. If it’s that persistent fucking UPS guy who wants to date her again, she is going to shove her foot up his ass.

She opens the door slightly, only to face none other than her resident troublemaker on her front doorstep. A guy around her age with similar features as Max lingers behind him awkwardly, swinging his car keys on his finger.

“Max?” Gwen squints her eyes at his small figure. Damn, this sun is awful.

“Jesus Christ, let us inside. It’s hot as hell out here!” Max hisses.

“Don’t be rude, Makhesh,” mystery guy scolds. They squabble back and forth in Hindi for a minute and God, Gwen wishes she knew what the hell they were saying. Finally, throwing a stink eye to the man, Max turns on his heel to face Gwen.

“Fine. Gwen, can we PLEASE come inside?”

Honestly, Gwen is still stuck on the fact that this boy had the audacity to show up at her house unannounced. She pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs.

“How did you even get my address?” She asks, narrowing her eyes. Max pushes past her and plops down on hallway floor. He then proceeds to untie his shoes and place them on the welcome mat, as if it’s his own fucking house. “We have it written down. You’ve ordered delivery before.” Gwen wants to throttle him.

“So you’re telling me: You looked through past receipts, illegally found my address, and then made your friend here drive you to my house?!”

Max nods, “Uh huh!”

“For the record, I told him this was a terrible idea,” mystery guy pipes. She turns away from Max and catches the nervous eyes of the stranger still on her doorstep.

“And who are _you?”_ She turns her fury on the new guy, making a mental note to get back to Max in a minute.

“I’m Avinash, his cousin,” he gulps, his eyes darting toward the car. “Sorry about this, ma’am. We will leave if you want. Makhesh made it sound like you guys were friends. I think this is a misunderstanding.” Gwen sighs, suddenly feeling like a piece of shit. She wishes she could deal with them post-headache instead.

“No, come in,” she relents, stepping out of the way, “I’m being a bitch.” Max’s face lights up.

“Great! Glad you came around. I thought Avi and I were going to have to eat all of this food ourselves!” He motions to a large bag. Oh, wow. How did she miss that? Despite herself, she laughs. Of course he brought food. Classic Max.

“I’m still mad about the invasion of privacy thing and you showing up unannounced, but…Thanks for the food, Max.” She ruffles his hair before noticing Avinash looking at her strangely. She drops her hand and blushes. “Uh, follow me. You guys can come sit down in the living room. Put the food on the coffee table please, Max.”

“Actually,” Avinash says, hanging out by the door, “I think I’m going to head back to the car. I have a few more deliveries to make.”

“Ghanta!” Max cries indignantly. Avinash makes it a point to ignore him and addresses Gwen instead. “Thanks for letting him come over. He’s been worried sick all day. He wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Not true! This is utter blasphemy! You are staining my good name with your lies!”

“Just give me a call when you get tired of him,” he sighs. “I’ll come right over to pick him up.”

“Thanks,” Gwen says wryly, walking him out.

“Bye Avi!” Max yells. Gwen winces. “Oh, sorry!” He whispers, throwing a hand over his mouth.

When Avinash leaves, Gwen closes the door behind him and locks it. Max plops down on the floor in front of the coffee table for easier access and digs around in the plastic bag. Gwen turns off the lamp-- the light from the window should be plenty—and sits down on the left side of the couch. She grabs a nearby blanket and cocoons herself while she watches as Max prepare his makeshift buffet.

“So, what’s with the Makhesh thing?” She starts, observing as he sets the plastic silverware in a pile. “Nickname?”

“Oh,” he stops unpacking to rub the back of his neck, “Guess you caught onto that, huh?” He returns to his task, keeping his eyes on the food, “My family only calls me that. It’s kind of my real name? I usually just go by Max because it’s easier to say.”

“Makhesh is only two syllables,” Gwen points out.

“Yeah, try telling that to every single teacher taking roll call,” Max scoffs, “Trust me, ‘Max’ is better.” Gwen suspects there’s more to it than that, but she decides not to push it.

“So you want me to keep calling you Max, then?” She asks. He nods, then bites his cheek as if he’s considering something. Gwen gives him time to think. Finally, he glances her way.

“You can call me Makhesh every once in a while,” he holds up his pointer finger sternly, “But only when there’s no one else around, okay?” She smiles. The fact that he is giving her permission to call him that, a privilege usually allowed only to his relatives, makes her wonder if he considers her like family. Maybe she’s just projecting. She needs stop thinking about this.

“What all did you even bring?” She changes the subject, eyeing the various containers spread out on her small coffee table. Max looks grateful for the new conversation topic.

“Oh! Our main dish of the night is…” He trails off, presenting a large, yellow container, “Chicken noodle soup!” Gwen narrows her eyes.

“ _You_ made chicken noodle soup?”

“Oh, God no,” his face scrunches up, “David dropped this off earlier for me to give to you the next time I saw you. He assumed I’d see you again before he would. So technically, you _could_ pin this whole delivery idea on him. He started it.”

Gwen sighs. “Your logic is impeccable.” She peers around him at the other containers. “What are all of those?”

“Oh, right!” Max refocuses, “So you met my cousin, Avinash, right? He actually lives in India for most of the year, but he comes back every summer to visit. He has a lot of friends here. He’s been helping out in the restaurant lately, though, to make some extra cash. Yesterday, after my parents left, he taught me how to make a bunch of sweets that they make for Diwali!” He opens some of the smaller containers, presenting them to her. “We packed lots of them for you.” Gwen wants to hug him for the kind gesture.

“Max, that’s so sweet,” she smiles. The kid ducks his head, a wide grin on his face.

“What can I say, I’m an angel.”

Gwen rolls her eyes. Max hands her a paper plate that he arranged with a few different sweets. They certainly look different from what’s she’s used to when hearing the word ‘dessert,’ but hey, you can’t knock ‘em till you try ‘em, right?

She takes a big bite out of something Max calls ‘Kaju Katli.’ It sort of looks like a diamond-shaped cookie. It tastes…nutty? It’s not her favorite, but it’s not bad.

“Yeah, it has cashews in it,” Max answers, munching on his own slice. Damn, she must have said that out loud. At least he’s not offended.

“What else have you got?” She asks, somewhat embarrassed. She notices that her migraine is starting to fade. Thank God. Max hums, pointing to another dessert on her plate.

“Those are jaleebi. They’re kind of like funnel cake?” Max explains. Gwen picks up one of the pinwheel-shaped confections and pops it into her mouth. Her eyes widen.

“This is pretty good!” She exclaims. She likes this one _much_ better than the last. Max smiles.

“I know right? But Avi say’s they’re not pretty as they usually are since we didn’t use any saffron. That shit’s hella expensive,” Max pouts.

Gwen crinkles her nose. “How expensive?”

“We looked it up and it’s like, ten bucks a gram for Spanish saffron.”

“Damn,” Gwen says.

“To be fair though,” Max reaches for a jalebi, “You don’t have to use much of it at a time. Just a few strands. But I didn’t want him to have to spend anymore money than he already did. He bought all of the ingredients himself just to teach me.”

“He sounds like a nice guy,” Gwen smiles.

“He is,” Max groans. “He’s a real goody-two shoes. Makes perfect grades in college. He travels. He has lots of friends--He’s _the_ perfect Asian kid stereotype,” Max vents. Gwen giggles.

“Sounds like somebody’s jealous,” she teases. He flies to his feet and slams his hands on the table, rattling the containers.

“Am NOT! I’m quite content being the family hell-raiser, thank you very much!” Gwen laughs at his antics. She’s thankful her headache is finally gone, because if she was laughing like this earlier, her head would probably be exploding in pain. Once she calms herself, she motions for him to sit back down.

“I’m glad,” she says, sincerely, “I’m glad you’re _you_ , as cheesy as that sounds.” Max scrunches up his nose. “Shut the fuck up. Eat the damn jalebi.” A moment later, as he prepares the next round of sweets, she notices a small smile on his face.

The pair try a few more sweets—Ladoo (didn’t like), kheer ( _okay_ ), and gulab jamun (Holy hell, she wants 10 more of those right now, immediately)—before Gwen calls it quits. She reminds Max that she hasn’t even eaten her soup yet.

“Oh, right,” Max realizes, “I forgot about that.” He stands up and brushes himself off. “Where are your bowls?”

“Kitchen, above the stove.”

When he returns to the living room with two bowls, Gwen takes the opportunity to tease him. “Oh, thank you for bringing me two bowls, _Makhesh!_ I’m starving!”

Max looks stunned for a moment. He glances down at the bowls in his arms, then smiles softly. “Fuck off, I brought the food. Your fatass can share.”

Max scoops out two bowls of soup from the large container, handing the one with more to Gwen. He also hands her the plastic cutlery that she knows he stole from the restaurant.

“Thanks,” she responds, nestling the warm bowl in her hands. She turns on some trash TV, much to Max’s dismay. She scoops up a spoonful of soup and blows on it. Before she can try it, she hears sputtering beside her. Max is spitting his soup back into his bowl.

“Holy shit, that is disgusting!” Max cries, wiping his mouth. He bolts to the kitchen.

Gwen snickers at his misery. Curious, she brings the spoon to her lips. Don’t ever say she’s not brave! She takes a tiny slurp from the edge and chokes. God, it’s salty. This is her not-so-friendly reminder that David has no idea how to fucking cook. It’s the thought that counts, though, right? Max returns to the living room clutching a glass of water as if he’s traumatized.

“That was the worst thing I think I have ever eaten in my entire life,” he whines. Gwen unravels herself from the blanket and places the offending object on the table.

“I think it’s fine,” she teases, “It just needs a little saffron, is all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, this chapter took forever. I did a lot of research to make sure what the characters were saying was accurate. I didn't want to trust Google Translate, especially since I was going into Hindi blind. Bless this one Indian guy on Youtube named Anil Mahato for his awesome Hindi lessons.  
> I may or may not have spent waaay more time than necessary searching baby names websites for a Hindi name that sounds somewhat similar to "Max." I also staked out a lot of Indian message boards and websites to educate myself on Indian culture. Researching the different Diwali foods was also very fun! If there are any Indian people reading this fic, please let me know if it's not accurate. I'm trying really hard to educate myself and write this fic respectfully, so if they're is anything I messed up, I will change it immediately.
> 
> Hindi terms/phrases:  
> Meri Sahayata Kijeeye- (Learned from Anil Mahato's channel) Politely asking someone older/similar age to help you  
> Ghanta- (From the website "Culture Trip") "..While the literal translation of ghanta is “bell”, it has become a common slang term in India. It expresses disbelief and is close in comparison to the phrase “yeah, right!” It can also be used when calling out someone’s lies. So, when used in that context, ghanta can also mean “nonsense” or “rubbish”. (Max knew Avinash didn't have anymore deliveries, so he was calling bullshit, lmao)
> 
> Hope you guys liked it!


	7. Chicken Tacos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwen and Max teach David how to cook

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm posting so late today guys! I was a bit busier than usual today. I also had this all edited in AO3, then accidently hit the back button, deleting everything. Love that!
> 
> Anyway, I hope this relatively long chapter makes up for it, hehe. Thank you for being so patient!

Just as Gwen is pulling out of her parking spot at Camp Campbell around 5 p.m. on Wednesday, her phone chimes with a generic ringtone. Huh, she thinks. Must be an unknown number. Since there are no other cars around in this shithole of a camp besides David’s (and he won’t leave for another ten minutes), she stops her car in the middle of the dirt road and picks up the phone.

“Hello?” She answers, putting the phone on speaker. She cranks the up the volume and rests the device on her dashboard. She puts the car into drive and makes her way down the dusty trail.

“Hey Gwen, it’s Max.”

“Max? How did you get my number? Don’t tell me you went snooping again. I’ll kick your ass,” she threatens, taking a sharp right.

“Calm down,” she can practically hear the eye roll, “David gave it to me. He said you wanted to ask to me something? But make it quick, I’m on break.”

Gwen blanks. Racking her mind, recalls the conversation they had a few days ago at lunch.

_\---_

_“I need to teach you how to cook,” she says after spitting half-eaten spaghetti into a paper towel.  David looks mortified._

_“Is it not good? I followed a recipe and everything! Oh, Gwen, I’m so sorry!”_

_“It’s fine,” she snickers, patting him on the arm, “We’ll work on it.” David pouts. Without further ado, he gathers the Tupperware and dumps the sad excuse for spaghetti into the trashcan. Gwen almost feels bad._

_“Listen,” she compromises, “What if you came over sometime and I taught you how to cook?_

_“Really?!” David returns to his usual, perky self, “That would be great! How about Friday? I would say Saturday, but I have a church thing this weekend.”_

_“I’d just need to let Max know I’m not stopping by,” Gwen says, tapping her chin. David falters._

_“You could bring him too?” He suggests, as if Gwen hadn’t already thought of that. She’d love to have the kid over, really! It’s just that she thinks he might be a little too much for David. The man is a piss-poor cook, and Gwen knows how Max feels about bad food._

_“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, David…” She trails off. David tilts his head._

_“Why not? Max is great at cooking! I’m sure he’d be a great teacher!” Gwen gives him a doubtful stare._

_“Max is…very particular about cooking. I’m not sure he would be very patient with you, David.” Trust her, she knows. One time, Max ranted to her about how stupid Avinash was for accidently undercooking his samosa. For fifteen minutes._

_“I can take it!” David cries, “I promise!”_

_Gwen sighs, knowing she’ll regret this decision later when David is balling his eyes out. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re running to Walmart tonight, aren’t you? Stop by and ask him yourself.” David gulps and gives her a wobbly smile._

_“Yeah, sure! I can do that!”_

_\---_

“Goddammit,” Gwen huffs, returning to her conversation with Max, “Guess _did_ chicken out. He was supposed to ask you. This is going to be a disaster.”

“Ask me what?!” Max asks, voice tinged with suspicion and badly hidden panic.

“It’s not that big of a deal. We just wanted to ask if you wanted to help me give David a cooking lesson on Friday.” Gwen hears the line crackle.

“Oh. Really? That’s it?” Max asks, stunned. “I mean, I’d have to ask Avi. He’d probably let me go.”

“Well go ask him, you little shit!” Gwen exclaims.

She hears footsteps smacking across the tile floor. She smiles, imagining his excitement as he bounds up to Avinash. She loves it when he actually acts like a kid. After some mumbling, Max picks up the phone again.

“He said I can go. I don’t have a ride, though. Will you pick me up?”

“Sure, kid,” she says, “Is around one okay? David and I get off at noon, though he usually stays a little longer to make sure all the kids get home okay. You and I can get a head start on buying ingredients while we wait for him.”

“That’s fine,” Max says. Then, softly, “Thank you for inviting me.” Gwen’s heart melts.

“Yeah, sure, Max. Just remember: Don’t be mean to David. He’s not very good at cooking.”

“Not very good?!” Max exclaims, returning to full volume, “Try absolutely fucking food-illiterate. His chicken noodle soup tasted like actual shit.”

“You’ve eaten shit before?”

“Fuck off, you know what I meant.”

Gwen smirks. “I know, I know. Just make sure to be ready at one. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Got it. I’ll see you Friday.”

\---

Friday finally comes, much to Gwen’s relief. Camp had been rough the last few days. Neil had an allergic reaction to a bee sting, Nikki got lost in the woods after chasing Muak, and David had three mental breakdowns. Today.

“I just don’t want him to be mean to me!” David cries, “I already know I’m bad at cooking! I won’t be able to learn if he yells at me and then I’ll mess up even more and then he’ll get even more angry and—”

“Jesus Christ, David,” she drags him away from the eyes of the parents in the pick-up line, “Get a grip. He’s ten. He’s not fucking Gordan Ramsey! You’re the one who said you wanted to do this. Either man up or wait until next Saturday when it’s just you and me.”

David sniffs and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, “I do want to do this! I’m just scared!”

“You’ll be fine,” she pats him on the shoulder. “I already told him he has to be nice. You’ll have fun, I promise,” she lies. She actually has no fucking idea if he’ll be fine--which in turn, makes her own stress-level skyrocket--but she doesn’t want to make him feel like a baby. He already hates himself enough when he gets into this state of mind.

Handing him a tissue from her purse, she guides him back to the car line. She gives him a gentle shove. “Now make sure all the kids leave. I’m going to go pick up Max and run to the store. Meet at my house in about an hour, hour and a half. We’ll call you.”

David re-centers himself with a deep breath. “Thanks Gwen. I’ll do that. It’ll be fine. It’ll be fun!”

“That’s the spirit!” Gwen cups her hand over her mouth and yells, backwards-walking to her car.

Now, to pick up the gremlin.

\---

“He started fucking _crying_ because he think’s I’m going to be “mean” to him?” Max asks, giving her an evil grin, “What a pussy!” Gwen grits her teeth. She has to remind herself that he’s just a child. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

“Yeah, he gets super nervous under pressure.” She eyes him sternly in the rearview mirror. “So, I repeat. Do not. Say anything. Mean. Make him cry, and I’ll punt your scrawny ass back to India.”

“I was born in America, dipshit.”

“Avi would watch you.”

“That would be preferable, actually,” he huffs, still smiling. Gwen sighs. Can he take this seriously for just one second? She clenches the wheel.

“Just please? Please be nice? I’m begging at this point. I _cannot_ deal with anymore tears today.”

“Jesus Christ!” Max groans, throwing his head back, “I’ll be nice. Oh my god.”

_“Thank you,”_ she slumps in relief. She feels Max’s eyes studying her.

“What?” She snaps, taking her eyes off the road for a moment to glare at him. He flinches.

“Do you really think I’m that mean?” Gwen chooses her words carefully, noting his defensive posture.

“I think you don’t have much of a filter, and sometimes, you say things that sound hurtful, even if you don’t mean them that way. And for someone like David, that can set him off pretty easily.”

“Set him off _how?”_ Max asks, a tinge of fear coating his voice. Gwen sighs. She did _not_ think she’d be having this conversation today.

“David…” She says slowly, “Has kind of a rough past. I’m not going to go into it, but just know that yelling and insults trigger him sometimes. Especially when he’s stressed, like he has been today.”

“Damn!” Max exclaims, “You should’ve just started out with that!”

“Well, fucking _excuse me_ for not wanting to have a conversation about someone else’s trauma! If you could just be nice in the first place, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” Gwen yells. Max flinches and resorts to crossing his arms. The pair sits in silence for a while--Gwen reeling from her outburst, and Max, glaring out the window—Until they finally roll up to the Aldi by Gwen’s house.

The pair walks through the isles in silence. Gwen is about done with today already. All this stress keeps piling on, and soon, there won’t be much of her left. Max holds onto the side of the cart with his pinky finger.

“Can we just make tacos or something?” Gwen asks, glancing at the selection of tortillas, “Something nice and easy?” Max lightly kicks the cart wheel with his foot, not even looking up.

“Don’t eat cow,” he mumbles.

“We can make chicken tacos.”

“Fine.”

Gwen shops for the rest of the ingredients while Max plays a game on his phone. She wants to ask him to put it up and watch where he’s walking, but she doesn’t want to cause another fight. When they finally load up the bags in the back of the trunk, Max offers to take the cart back. He returns the quarter to her after she buckles her seatbelt. 

The ride back to her house is a quiet one. Gwen doesn’t know how she’s going to fix this. Everything feels like it’s going off the rails today. She’d rather just go home, alone, and _watch Teen Prison Mom Wars_ in bed. But now, she has to babysit two idiots with the combined emotional intelligence of a caterpillar.

That’s not fair, she scolds herself. This whole thing was her idea, anyway.

David greets them as soon as they pull up in the driveway. He must have let himself inside with the spare key. “Hey Gwen! Max! How did shopping go?” Gwen has known him long enough to spot the underlying nervousness in his tone.

“Great!” She replies, plastering on a smile, “We got stuff to make chicken tacos. Can you help us carry things inside?”

David’s eyes dart to Max, who is suspiciously quiet. The boy doesn’t even look up from where he’s glaring at the sidewalk. David gives her _the look--_ the one they always share when silently calling out each other’s bullshit--but moves to help her anyway.

“Of course,” he says, his smile twitching at the edges. All three of them unload the car and bring the groceries inside. There are four bags total. David carries two, and Max and Gwen carry one each. She managed to get a good deal on the bell peppers, so she snagged a few extra for another meal. On the counter, they organize the ingredients by type. The boys take a seat at the barstools, waiting for Gwen’s instructions.

“Okay!” She says, compressing the last Aldi bag. She can save this. It’s going to be fine. Deep breaths. “First, we need to season the chicken with salt and pepper. Once it’s cooked most of the way, we’ll add the spices.” She gives them both a hopeful look. The boys glance at each other, but neither of them move.

“Wow, don’t everyone jump up at once, now,” she says sarcastically, “Max? Can you show him how to do it?” Max glares at her.

“I think you should do it. This was your stupid idea anyway,” he huffs. David’s eyes bounce between the two, his face radiating concern.

“Oh, come on, Max! It’ll be fun!”                                      

“No!” He glances at David and takes a deep breath. When he continues, his voice is level. “You can make it yourselves. I’m going to sit in the living room. Just tell me when you want Avi to pick me up.” Gwen and David share a nervous look as he stomps away.

After Max takes his leave, David leans over and whisper-yells, “What the heck was that about?” Gwen rests her elbows on the counter and buries her head in her hands.

“I don’t know!” She blurts. She can feel her frustration bursting at the seams. “He was being a little shit earlier, so I tried to tell him to be nice! He wouldn’t take me seriously! I kind of yelled at him, but he deserved it!”

“Gwen, he’s just a child, David tuts, “Maybe yelling wasn’t the best way to go to get your point across.”

Gwen almost retaliates, but the disappointed look in David’s eye makes her melt in defeat. “Maybe,” she slumps.

“Do you want a hug?” David asks, extending his arms and making a silly pouty face. Gwen giggles and nods, ignoring the few frustrated tears streaking her face. David gives the best hugs—warm, safe, homey, all gangly limbs and smiles—and it’s just the thing she needs to pull herself together.

“What do I do now?” She asks, not letting go yet. David rests his chin on her head.

“I think you should apologize, first of all.”

“That little shit should apologize to me, too, then!” She pouts, tilting her head to meet his eyes. Really, he should apologize to David too, she thinks, but she _really_ doesn’t want to bring up the whole ‘I kind of mentioned your PTSD to a 10-year-old’ thing to David.

“Set an example by apologizing to him, first. You’re the adult. You don’t get to be petty,” David tells her sternly. Damn, when did he get so wise?

“Okay, Supernanny,” she breaks away from the hug, “How about you chop up the peppers while I talk to Max?”

David smiles softly and kisses her forehead. “That’s my Gwen.” She gags, causing him to laugh. She leaves him be so that she can search for their little guest.

Arriving in the living room, however, only to find no one there, throws her for a fucking loop. “Max?” She calls, her eyes scanning the room, “Are you in here?” Her heart pounds in her chest. Did she just lose a child? Is she going to have to make an Amber Alert? Avi is going to fucking kill her.

She stops in the middle of the room and puts her hands on her hips. His bracelet is on the table. He has to be around here somewhere, she concludes. She checks behind various pieces of furniture before finally stumbling upon an unusually shaped mound of blankets.

“Makhesh?” She squeezes behind the couch. Curse her thick thighs. This hurts like hell. She gives the mound a poke and yep, there is definitely a Max in there. He ignores her, turning his cocoon so that his back faces her. She rolls her eyes. Breathe, she reminds herself. Remember what David said. He’s just a child.

“Listen Max, I want to apologize for what I said earlier,” she says, maneuvering herself in the tiny space so that her knees are hugged close to her chest, “And for yelling.” The mound seems to shrink. A moment passes and Gwen wonders if he’s actually going to acknowledge her.

“You were right, though,” he says, his voice muffled by the covers. Make that exhibit number 27 of the ‘Things I Did Not Expect to Happen and/or Hear Today’ collection. Gwen pulls the blanket-covered boy closer. He removes the blanket enough so that his face peeks out.

“Right about what?” Gwen asks, smoothing back his curly hair. He weakly swats her hand away, and she notices the evidence of dried tears on his face. God, did she really make him cry? Great job being a role model, Gwen. You’re doing a swell job.

“About me,” he says, hugging himself. “I’m mean and bad and awful and the _one time_ I finally find someone who can actually stand me, I fucking ruin it. Like always.”

“You didn’t fucking ruin it. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know why.”

“Because you’re a child,” she parrot’s David’s words. “You’re allowed to make mistakes. Shit, I made a mistake by being rude to you today. It was fucking uncalled for. I should’ve explained the situation first. I was stressed and took it out on you. That’s my fault. Not yours. And I’m sorry.”

Max removes the blanket and looks into her eyes as if he’s searching for something. He looks absolutely confused and Gwen has the awful thought that maybe no one has ever apologized to him like this before.

“Okay,” he says, scrubbing his eyes harshly. He peeks back at her and she gives him a small smile.

“I’m sorry too, I guess,” he says, studying the fabric of the blanket. “I shouldn’t have said those things about David. And I should have taken you seriously.”

“Apology accepted,” Gwen smiles, ruffling his hair. This time, he doesn’t push her away. “And for the record,” she starts, “I don’t think you’re bad.”

“That’s one opinion against one thousand, but go off, I guess,” Max says, sniffing.

“Fuck the one thousand. I think you’re great. So does David.” Gwen can tell Max doesn’t believe the sincerity in her voice, but she prays that one day he will. “Let’s get out of here, shall we?” She offers a hand, “I left David in the kitchen to chop some peppers and I’m afraid he’s going to burn down the kitchen.”

Max squeezes out after her, “How would that even—”

“It’s _David_ , Max, I’m sure he’d find a way.”

When they’ve both shimmied themselves free, they head back into the kitchen to find David almost done cutting all of the peppers.

“Oh yay!” He cries, waving the knife around, "You two made up!"

“Be careful, David,” she warns, lifting Max up to set him on the counter, “Max, _now_ will you show David how to season the chicken?” The kid rolls his eyes and smiles softly. He nods and motions to the plate of chicken, reinvigorated.

“So first, what you’re gunna wanna do is take this motherfucker and—”

Gwen sighs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Let's make a cute story about the fam cooking!  
> My goblin brain: okay but make it angsty
> 
> Bonus:  
> Gwen: I can't handle anymore tears today  
> Max: *cries*  
> Gwen. I will make one (1) exception.


	8. Potatoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Gwen listen to some Latin trap music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye ask and ye shall receive...

When Gwen pulls up to the restaurant the following Friday, she’s disappointed to find that Max’s parents are back. Through the shop window, she can see that Max is sitting with his mother at Gwen’s usual graffitied table, peeling potatoes. She debates with herself if she even wants to go in. She knows how irritable Max’s mom gets when he slacks off, and she doesn’t want to start an argument. Maybe if Gwen offers to help, Max’s mother would leave them alone. After all, what sane business owner would turn down free labor? Gwen sighs, making a mental note to remind Max later of the sacrifices she makes to see him.

When she opens the door, the bells jingle above her head. Max and his mother look up from their work. The former smiles and waves, while the latter frowns. “Hi Gwen!” He says, setting his potato and peeler on the table. He glances at his mother, gauging her mood. “Umm…”

His mother continues to stare at her, before turning back to her son. She sighs. She says something to him in Hindi and motions to the potatoes, her bangles jingling. A grin slowly forms on Max’s face.

“Sachchee, maa?” He says, growing more excitable by the second. His mother nods, sternly. Max turns to Gwen, who is still standing with her arms crossed a good three feet away. “She says I can hang out with you for a little while after I finish these potatoes. You just have to be gone by the time my Dad gets back,” Max says.

Gwen smiles. “Sounds good to me. Can I help you?” Max shrugs and translates her request to his mother. The woman stares at Gwen for a moment before her rough hands give the peeler to Gwen. She retreats to the kitchen, leaving the pair alone at the table.

To say Gwen is surprised is an understatement. Max’s mother has always seemed like an all-work-and-no-play kind of lady. There must be a reason why she’s being so lenient. It’s really none of Gwen’s business, but curiosity makes the words tumble out of her mouth:

“What the hell was that about?”

Max, whose eyes are still trained on the spot where his mother was previously sitting, tilts his head. “I know, right?” He motions for her to sit. Gwen pulls out a chair across from him and grabs a potato.

“Seriously, I have never seen her be that nice before,” Gwen says, never knowing when to stop. A hurt expression flickers across Max’s face.

“She can be nice,” he says, defensively. Damn, that was not the reaction she was expecting.

“Yeah. Sorry,” she says. He shrugs and leaves it as that. She and Max peel potatoes in silence for a few minutes before the Max huffs.

“This is boring as fuck. Do you have any music on your phone?” He says, looking up. Gwen finishes her current potato and puts it in the pot.

“Yeah, but it’s mostly Latin music and trashy pop songs.”

“I’ll take it,” he deadpans, making gimmie hands. She smiles and hands over the device. Max wipes his hands on his pants and grabs it. He makes a face.

“You have a picture of you and _David_ as your lock screen?” He asks. Gwen snickers.

“Yeah, we’re kind of dating remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” he groans. Gwen _makes sure_ to remind him that her and David getting together was his idea.

“Absolutely not my intention!” He says. He scrolls through her playlist before settling on _Mi Libertad_ by Jerry Riviera. Max crinkles up his nose as the song starts.

“You have strange taste,” he snarks. Gwen rolls her eyes. She seems to recall him prancing around her kitchen last week, singing as he cooked. She and David even hyped him up when he got to his favorite parts.

“Max, you were singing Bollywood songs at the top of your lungs last week. You have no room to talk.” Max gasps.

“Imply that Shreya Ghoshal isn’t the best singer in the entire world one more time and I will break your fucking ankles,” he threatens. She decides not to push it, remembering how serious celebrity crushes are at his age. A memory of her 10-year-old-self dancing around in her room to the Backstreet Boys makes her giggle.

“Seriously!” Max shouts, looking betrayed.

“Fine, fine,” she relents, snatching the phone back. She tries _Caro_ by Bad Bunny, thinking it might be more his style. When she notices him bobbing his head to the song as he works, she considers her mission successful.

 The duo listens to Gwen’s music for a while, peeling and dicing to the beat. Suddenly, the door chimes, and Gwen has to do a double take when she notices the newcomer.

“Nikki?!”

Max plops his last handful of diced potato in the pot. “Who’s that?” He questions, studying the strange green-haired girl.

“Gwen!” The girl launches herself into the off-duty counselor’s arms. “Hi! It’s so good to see you! It’s been forever!”

Gwen pries the young girl off, ignoring Max’s bewildered stare. “Nikki, I just saw you yesterday!”

“Oh, right,” she says, holding her hand to her chin, “Say, what are you doing here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be at home, kissing David—”

“Nicolette!” Candy scolds, catching up to her daughter, “I am so sorry, Gwendolyn! She saw you through the window and managed to get away from me. I knew I should’ve kept her on that child leash.”

“I’m not even going to ask,” Max says, wiping off the table. Gwen smiles.

“It’s no trouble, Candy. I’m glad I got to see you two,” she says politely. Candy smiles, ruffling Nikki’s hair.

“Us too. She just adores you and David!” She glances at the time on her phone and frowns. “I’d love to stay and talk with y’all, but I have to drop Nikki at her dad’s before I go to work.”

“But mom!” Nikki cries, “I want to hang out with Gwen! And grumpy kid!’

“Hey, hold on a second…” Max gripes. Gwen laughs.

“It’s okay, Candy. She can hang out with us. I can bring her to her dad’s later.” Candy’s eyes widen in surprise. Nikki is hugging here mom’s leg and begging.

“Really? Are you sure?” Gwen nods, already regretting the decision. “Sure. Put your number in my phone and text me the address.” Nikki cheers. Gwen shuts the music off, ignoring the protests from Max, and gives it to Candy.

“Thank you so much, Gwendolyn. I owe you one,” she says, a few thumb-taps later. She slides her phone in the back pocket of her low-cut jeans and stoops down to Nikki’s level.

“Behave, now, alright?” She gives her daughter a peck on the cheek. Nikki blushes and shoos her away.

“Mom, not in front of Gwen!” Candy giggles and straightens back up.

“Alright, alright. I’ll go now. I’ll see you later tonight, baby,” she waves.

After she leaves the store, Max clears his throat. “Okay, so does anyone want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” As if Max is a shiny new toy in a shop window, Nikki bounds up to him.

“Hi! You have pretty eyes!” She blurts, unashamed. Gwen can’t help but laugh. Max’s mortification is priceless.

“Gwen, what the fuck?” He says, pushing the curious girl out of his bubble. Gwen shrugs, a small smirk worming its way to her face. She decides to help him out by picking Nikki up and plopping her down a chair. Much to Max’s dismay, this does nothing to curb her excitement.

“Nikki, calm down,” she orders. Nikki does no such thing. “What’s your name?” She asks instead, bouncing in her seat.

“Max.”

“Wow, cool!” Suddenly, she grabs his wrist and examines his bracelet. Max sighs and throws a glare Gwen’s way. “I really hate you,” he deadpans. Nikki gasps.

“Don’t say that! Gwen is the best!”

“You must _really_ be braindead, then,” he rolls his eyes. He grabs the pot and returns it to the kitchen. When he comes back, he puts his hands on his hips. “Now what?”

Gwen glances between the two of them and hums, pretending to be deep in thought, “I don’t know. What do you guys want to do?”

“As long as I’m five hundred feet away from this mess, I’m good,” he says, pointing a thumb at Nikki.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Max!” She says cheerfully. She reaches over and gives him a hug. "What if we went to the park?”

“That’s fucking stupid.” Gwen crosses her arms in warning. Nikki ignores the bite in his tone and continues to list different activities.

“Archery?”

“No.”

“Hiking!”

_“No.”_

“Horseback riding?”

“Absolutely fucking not—"

“Training that’ll save you from a heart attack?”

Gwen throws a hand over the young girl’s mouth. This was funny at first, but she can tell Max is about to reach his limit. “Let’s just go to the arcade or something. Does that sound fun?”

Nikki cheers and jumps. She shushes the girl and looks over to Max to see what he thinks of the idea. Max crosses his arms and shrugs. He’s in another one of his moods again, then. She sighs.

“Alright. Let’s head out to my car."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hindi words/phrases:  
> Sachchee, maa?: "Really, mom?" (learned from Anil Mahato) (Well, he used "mummy" in his example but I decided to use "maa" instead. Max is probably past the age where would say "mummy.")
> 
> Hi guys! This chapter gave me a lot of trouble, haha. Everything feels awkward and way too dialogue-y but it's the best I've got right now. I might come back to this chapter later and revise.
> 
> P.S. I think the updates are going to slow down a little bit from now on. I'm going to give myself more time to write these chapters. Expect a chapter or two every two to three days. Thank you very much for your patience and for supporting this story!


	9. Fries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max, Nikki, and Gwen go to the arcade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ye ask and ye shall receive (second edition!)

After a tense car ride (more specifically, a car ride in which Nikki prattles on and on about her favorite arcade games and Max steals Gwen’s headphones to block her out), the trio bumbles out of the car. The façade of the building looms over them, reminding Gwen not to let Nikki out of her sight. There are many nooks in crannies in the large building that Nikki could (and would) try to explore if given the chance. Nikki grins at the bright lights and grabs Gwen’s hand, dragging her forward.

“Come on, let’s go!” She whines. In her peripheral, Gwen can see Max rolling his eyes. He lazily closes the door and trails behind them. He removes the headphones from his ears and wears them around his neck instead.

“If you bring those, you have to promise not to break them,” she warns, pointing at her prized possession. Max nods.

“Alright then! Let’s go!” She leads the kids inside and buys them each a reloadable ticket card. She gives each of them and herself an allowance of thirty points each. Thankfully, she has enough disposable income this week to feel okay spending money on a scam like an arcade. As long as the kids have fun, she’s happy.

Speaking of happy, Nikki is already bouncing on her toes, holding the card like it’s the golden ticket that will get her into the chocolate factory. Max studies his, reading the fine print on the back.

“So, what do you do with this?” He asks, “Is it like a credit card?” Gwen leads them away from the counter so that the people behind them can be helped.

“Yeah,” she says, taking them to the game area, “You just swipe the card whenever you want to play a game. Make sure to keep track of how many points each game is, though. You guys have thirty points each.” Max’s jaw drops.

“Wow!” Nikki cheers, “That’s so cool, Gwen! Thank you!”

“Damn, you didn’t have to buy that many. That’s a fucking waste of money,” he scolds. Gwen shrugs and nudges him toward the games, ignoring the fact that he’s probably right.

“Just have fun okay? Look, here’s a cool racing game we can play!” She pops a squat in one of the seats and swipes her card. Nikki jumps in front of Max and takes the seat right next to Gwen. Noticing the scowl on his face, Gwen tries to compromise.

“Do you want to play too, Max? We can take turns. You can play winner.”

“No. That game looks stupid anyway. Just hurry up,” Max crosses his arms. Gwen gives him a worried glance before Nikki tugs on her shirt.

“Come on, Gwen, it’s starting!” She cheers, revving her character’s engine. Her legs are too short to reach the peddles comfortably, so she’s literally on the edge of her seat. Max hovers behind the two and watches them race. Naturally, he cheers for Gwen.

Gwen wins (it’s all because of Max’s encouragement, he claims) and the three make their way to the busted up Skee-Ball machines. Gwen and Nikki swipe their cards on the first two machines in the row.

“Come on, Max!” Nikki encourages, “Play with us! There are plenty of machines!” Max checks the price of the game and shakes his head.

“I’m good. I’ll just watch.” Nikki pouts, but plays the game anyway. She and Gwen barely win any tickets, but regardless, Nikki gushes about how great Gwen is.

“Did you see when she hit two fifties in a row?” Nikki asks, shaking Max, “That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” Before he can even open his mouth, she barrels on, “How did you even do that?” Gwen snorts at her enthusiasm.

“I could make up some bullshit answer about ‘practice makes perfect,’ but honestly, I’m just as confused as you are. That was pure luck.” Nikki “Oohs” and “Ahhs” some more before dragging them to the crane machine across the room.

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to play this,” Max deadpans, glaring at the claw through the glass.

“Why not?” Gwen asks, already swiping her card. Nikki vibrates, pointing out the bear she wants Gwen to win for her. Max grits his teeth.

“Because it’s literally designed for you to lose?” He waves his arms, “You have the smallest chance of winning anything. AND, even if you do, it’s just some dumbass prize made by a Chinese sweatshop that costs a fraction of the price you payed to play the game!”

“Come on, Max, don’t be such a Debbie Downer!” Nikki boops him on the nose. Max looks two seconds away from biting her finger. Gwen drags Nikki out of his space and asks her to simmer down.

Turning back to Max, Gwen puts her hands on her hips. She's confused as to why he’s so uptight today. He had so much fun at the carnival when she won Mr. Honeynuts for him. Figuring it’s just a Max thing, she decides to compromise. If she doesn’t push, maybe he’ll explain why he’s so upset later when they’re alone. She knows he hates talking about mushy stuff in front of other people.

“We’ll only play a few rounds, okay? If we can’t get it by the third try, we’ll move on to something else. Does that sound good?” Max frowns but mutters out an “okay” under his breath. Gwen lines up the claw with the kids’ help, nudging it in different directions ever so slightly until they give her permission to press “drop.”

Winning the pink bear on the second try is not something she expected. She is uncharacteristically lucky today. Max’s mouth is wide open, watching as the claw drops her prize into the bin. Gwen sticks her tongue at him and bends down to grab the toy. Nikki snatches it from her hands and waves it around.

“Gwen! You’re so good at these games!” She hugs the bear close to her chest. “Max!” She shouts, grabbing his hands, “Help me name her!” Max yanks his hands away and shoves them into his pockets.

“Name her _‘Annoying piece of shit’_ in honor of her mother,” he snarks, glaring at Nikki. The girl frowns and scratches her cheek.

“That’s too long. Is just ‘Shit’ okay?” She asks. Gwen can tell it’s getting hard for her to keep being nice to him, but at least she’s trying. Max pulls his hair in frustration.

“Max, you need to chill out,” she scolds. If even Nikki, the perpetual ray of sunshine, is starting to be affected by his mood, then he’s definitely taking it way too far. Max huffs. He pulls the headphones snugly over his ears and blares music. Gwen sighs. She needs to figure out a way to give him time to calm down. Nikki shares a worried look with Gwen, who grabs both of their hands and starts walking towards the front of the building.

“Let’s go get something to eat, okay?” She suggests softly. Max reads her lips out of the corner of his eye and nods. They pick out a bistro style table off to the side and set their stuff down. Max stays at the table, engrossed in his phone, while Nikki and Gwen leave order at the concession stand. Gwen orders three cokes, a burger for herself, a hot dog for Nikki, and some fries for Max. He ignored her earlier when she tried to ask him what he wanted, so she’s taking a wild guess. He’ll just have to deal with it. She and Nikki step off to the side to wait for their food. From here, Gwen watches Max at the table, his knees curled up to his chest, scrolling through what looks like Twitter. Nikki also watches him, tugging on Gwen’s shirt weakly.

“Why does he hate me?” she asks, looking up at Gwen with wide eyes. There are pinpricks of tears threatening to fall and Gwen wants to scoop her up and hug her. She settles for setting a hand on her shoulder and crouching down to her level.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” she replies, honestly, “Max…kind of doesn’t know how to express himself. He has a good heart, though, I promise. I think we just need to give him space to calm down. Let’s go eat some food, and if he’s still grumpy after that, I’ll have a talk with him. Does that sound okay?”

Nikki nods and wipes the tears from her eyes. The man at the counter hands them two trays, one with their drinks, and the other with their food. Nikki and Gwen deposit the goods on the table and Max looks up from his phone. Gwen places his fries and drink in front of him. He blinks, taking the headphones off and putting them around his neck again.

“Thanks,” he says, reaching for a fry. He’s still frowning, but his eyes dart back in forth between Nikki and Gwen, who are eating in silence. The only sounds they hear are the jingles from the arcade games and the crashing of the bowling pins in the mini alley behind them.

“Look, I’m sorry, Nikki. Gwen,” he blurts, crossing his arms. “I’m being stupid.” He glares at his almost-empty container of fries. Gwen and Nikki look at each other, surprised. They didn’t expect an apology.

“It’s okay, Max,” Nikki says, a smile returning to her face. Gwen ruffles his hair, “That’s my boy,” she says. A tiny smile flashes across his face for a moment before Nikki pipes up again.

“So, what do you want to do next, Max?” She asks, her excitement building. Max squirms in his seat.

“I don’t care,” he says, “I’ll do whatever.” Nikki grins. She picks up their empty containers and drops them into the trash can. Gwen returns their trays to the concession stand.

“I think we should play that spin the wheel game over there!” Nikki points. Max shrugs and follows along. At least he’s not hostile anymore, Gwen thinks. Strangely enough, he still doesn’t play the game.

Nikki wins a good fifty tickets, holding up her hands for high-fives. Max plays along for once and slaps her hand gently. Gwen gives her a high-five too, internally celebrating the fact that Max is being nice to her.

Max watches as Gwen and Nikki play a few more games, always standing awkwardly to the side and refusing to participate. After the fifth game, Gwen decides this has gone on long enough.

“Max, you still haven’t spent any of your points,” she points out. Max shrugs, glancing at the green-haired girl to his left.

“Nikki can have them,” he says. Nikki gasps at his offer.

“Really?!” She grins. Max nods and hands her his card, stuffing his hands back into his pockets. Gwen sighs. She takes the card back from Nikki (who grumbles a quick “aww…”) and hands it back to Max.

“You can’t do that. I gave it to her,” he says, his temper flaring again.

“She has plenty of points left. Use your points for yourself,” Gwen says, her frustration mounting. Honestly, why can’t he have one fun day? Why does he always have to make things difficult?

“I don’t want to!” He yells, stomping his foot. Great, now people are staring, He must notice this, because he snatches the card back and runs off. Nikki watches him go, tears welling in her eyes again. Gwen needs a fucking nap.

“Go sit down at the food court or something, Nikki. Keep your phone on you. I’ll go find him. Nikki nods pitifully and slinks off in the opposite direction.

Gwen searches around the arcade area, looking behind every machine. She knows that Max tends to hide in small, dark places. She really needs to have a talk about him not running off every time he gets upset. It’s getting ridiculous.

A pang of sadness washes over her, however, when she remembers that it’s not normal for kids his age to still feel the need to hide like this. She needs to be softer with him and give him the benefit of the doubt. He’s not doing this to be selfish. He just truly, honest-to-God, doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Finally, she stumbles across the small, laser escape room. Bingo, she thinks. She swipes her card and pushes the curtains aside. Sure enough, Max is curled up in the corner, green laser beams bouncing off of his hoodie.

“Max, you’ve got to stop doing this,” she sighs, sitting down criss-cross-applesauce next to him. He shrugs, not bothering to look at her.

“What’s wrong?” She asks, trying to peek at his face.

“Don’t know,” he says, his voice muffled by the fabric of his hoodie.

“Are you still mad at Nikki?”

“No.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No!”

“Then what’s wrong?” She asks, exasperated, “You need to tell me! Nikki is sitting out there all by herself and—”

“Then go hang out with her!” he interrupts, his hands curling into fists. “You don’t need me there! Give her my card and you guys can go play!”

Gwen’s expression softens, “We want you to have fun too, Max.”

Max’s breath hitches as he laughs. “I’m ruining everything, and you know it! You don’t need to waste your fucking money on me!"

“You’re not ruining everything. You’re upset, and I need to know why so that we can fix it. It’s not fair for you to take your anger out on us when we don’t even know what’s wrong.”

 _“I_ don’t even know what’s wrong!” He blurts, “You say that like I know why I’m mad! I fucking don’t!” He blinks away tears. “I’m always messing shit like this up. I don’t even know why you bother with me. I understand why you brought her. She’s so good and nice and you should be hanging out with her instead of sitting in this musty-ass room with me!”

Gwen blinks. There it is. She feels like a piece of shit. It was supposed to be their day and she just invited someone along, not even asking him if it was okay. No wonder he’s hurt. She just assumed he’d be fine with Nikki tagging along. Then she made him feel like she didn’t even want him around. Guilt pools in her stomach.

“Max, you deserve just as much attention as Nikki does,” she says slowly, “I’m sorry if it seemed like I was paying more attention to her than to you. I shouldn’t have even invited her without your permission. I’m sorry.” Max looks like he wants to say something harsh, but he stops himself.

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” he scrubs his eyes and moves to stand up, “Let’s just get out of this room. I’ll play the games if you want me to.”

“I don’t want you to play the games to make me happy,” she grabs his arm and sits him back down, speaking evenly, “I want you to play them to make yourself happy.”

“I would be significantly more happy not watching money go down the fucking drain,” he bites. Here’s issue number two, she thinks to herself. Minus the jealously, is that why he wouldn’t play anything earlier?

“Max, it was like, thirty dollars!” She says, throwing her hands in the air.

“Yeah, and that could buy my family groceries for the entire week!” He yells. “I’m not fucking stupid! I know how money works!” Her heart sinks.

“Yeah, and it’s my money, Max. Therefore, I get to choose how to spend it. I already bought my groceries this week. I have money saved in the bank. It’s _fine_ ,” she emphasizes. "I’m going to be okay.”

Max lifts his head and looks as though he’s searching her for any sign of a lie. “Are you sure?”

“I _promise_ ,” she says, grabbing his hand, “I promise you, everything is okay. Why are you worried so much anyway?” She asks. Max snatches his hand back.

“None of your business.” Gwen bites her tongue, resisting the urge to tell him he’s made it her business.

“Fine,” she relents, “I’ll back off. But I want you to go out there, play, and not worry. Nikki and I both want you here, and we both want you to have fun.” Max scrubs the remaining tears from his face and stands up. When they exit the dark room, the bright lights in the arcade area make them squint. They make their way back to Nikki, who is still at the table, playing a game on her phone.

“Hey,” she says to Max, timidly, “You good?” Max nods.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. This is all kind of new to me," he says, shifting on his feet. Nikki gives him a hug, which he thankfully powers through.

“Do you want to go play Pac-Man?” He asks suddenly, nodding his head in the direction of the machines. Nikki lights up and grabs his hand, already bouncing.

“I thought you’d never ask!” She drags him along, and this time, he doesn’t even seem to mind. He kicks her ass at Pac-Man and grins as he adds the letters M-A-X to the leaderboard.

Fucking finally. Gwen smiles at her two kids being kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I'm going to slow down on updates  
> Also me: Okay cool, but this chapter was so fun to write, you can't just NOT post it!
> 
> By the way! Things might look a little different. I combined a couple of the shorter chapters and changed the names of some of the chapters to fit the theme better. I think it looks a lot better now. Thank you for reading!


	10. Ham Sandwich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max blows things up with the help of his new friends.

When Avinash calls her on Monday, Gwen is getting dressed for work.

“Is this Gwen?” He asks, skipping over the normal ‘hello.’ Gwen rolls her eyes, struggling to put on a pair of pants with one hand. She switches to speakerphone and throws her phone on the bed.

“Hello to you too, Avi,” she murmurs, buttoning her pants. Satisfied with her work, she carries the phone with her into the bathroom.

“Oh! My fault. I am nervous. Hello, Gwen, this is Avi,” he tries again. Gwen laughs at his stilted language.

“Why are you nervous?” She asks, “Besides the fact that I never gave you my number and I might kill you if I find out you snooped like Max did.” Avi clears his throat nervously.

“Ah, no. Makhesh gave it to me. I’m sorry to call you without warning, but this is important.” She pauses.

“Okay, go on,” Gwen says, her heart skipping a beat. Scenarios of Max being hurt or sick flash through her mind. Why else would Avi call her at six-thirty in the fucking morning?

“I need to ask for a favor,” Avi continues, not even noticing her panic.

She sighs in relief. “Okay, shoot. I can’t guarantee anything, though.” She gives her toothbrush a quick rinse under the sink and applies a dab of toothpaste. She brushes while she listens.

“Would you mind watching Makhesh for the day? His parents are away again, and the restaurant is closed. I don’t want him to be home by himself,” he says. Gwen pauses, spitting out a glob of froth. She wipes her mouth on a nearby towel, thinking it over. “Why can’t you watch him?” She asks, curiously.

“I…” He starts, “I had a disagreement with his father. We are not on good terms, and I think he would be very upset if he found out I went by their house. I also have some…errands to run today that he cannot come with me for.”

Gwen brings the phone with her as she exits the bathroom. A plan forms in her mind. Avi must take her silence as a rejection, however, because he starts begging. “Please?” He asks, “I will pay you. I don’t want him to be by himself.”

“I will,” she says, grabbing her keys, “He’ll have to come to work with me, though. I work at a summer camp. Can you text me his address?”

“That’s fine. I will do that,” Avi says, thinking for a moment before adding: “Maybe he will make some new friends?” Gwen can hear the hope in his voice. She grins.

“God, I hope so. He already knows one girl there, though. Her name is Nikki.”

“Oh! Is that the green-haired girl that came to the restaurant one day? Max mentioned her.”

“Yeah, they had a rough start, but I think they’re friends now.” She closes the door and locks it.

“I’m so glad. Well, I think I will let you go now. Is it okay if I call you tomorrow? I may need your help with something important. I appreciate everything you are doing for us.”

Gwen wants to groan. She doesn’t want to lie in suspense, worrying about whatever favor he’ll ask for tomorrow. However, she knows that Avi has a good heart and that it probably won’t be anything bad. She sighs and gives in. “Fine. Call me around noon tomorrow,” Her phone dings with a text from Avi, “And let Max know that I’m on my way to pick him up now.”

“Okay. I cannot thank you enough. I will talk to you soon.”

“Alright,” she says, walking outside, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Bye.” She hangs up and opens her car door. After putting the address into her maps app, she sets off on her trek to Max’s house.

\---

Max’s neighborhood is kind of a shithole, Gwen thinks. There are abandoned houses on every street corner. Vines slink up arches and wrap around door frames. Dogs wander in packs, their ribs sticking out from their chests and their tails sticking straight towards the sky, warning intruders to take a step back. When she reaches Max’s house, she’s not surprised to find chipped paint and rotted porch steps. The door creaks on its hinges when he steps outside. Max locks the rusty doorknob with his key and waltzes to her car.

“Hey Gwen,” he says, crawling inside. She idly wonders to herself if he needs a booster seat, considering how short he is. She dismisses the thought, knowing it would only cause an argument if she brought it up.

“Hey Max,” she parrots, pulling out of the driveway, “I have to go to work, but you can hang out with the other kids at Campbell’s. Nikki will show you around.”

“Nikki goes there?” He asks, buckling his seatbelt.

Gwen hums, “Yep. She’s been going for about three years now.”

“Oh,” Max says. He looks out the window a moment before attempting some small talk, “So, tell me about these kids. Who am I going to be dealing with? I need to prepare myself for this bullshit.”

Gwen rolls her eyes and smiles. “You’re going to have fun; don’t be like that,” She bites her cheek, thinking up descriptions of the campers. Max waits in suspense.

“Well, first of all,” she starts, “We have two kids named Neil. One is a total science nerd. Hangs out with Nikki a lot. I think his dad is fucking Nikki’s mom?” She shoots him a glare when she sees the Cheshire grin forming on his lips, “ _Don’t_ repeat that,” she threatens. “Anyway, I think you three will get along. He seems like the type that would help you with your evil plans.”

“I see,” Max says, nodding his head in approval, “So what about the other Neil?”

“We call him Space Kid, because all he fucking talks about is space,” Gwen deadpans. “That’s pretty much all you need to know. Then, we have a kid named Nerf. He calls himself a bully, but he’s actually super self-aware and educated? It’s a whole thing. He stabbed David one time.”

“No way!” Max gasps, “Did he cry?”

Gwen gives him a look. “Wouldn’t you?”

Max shakes his head. “No way. I’m not a crybaby like David.” Gwen snickers.

“Yeah, okay,” she says, unconvinced. Max pouts.

“Okay, maybe I would cry _a little._ Ugh, stop making me feel empathetic for _David._ It’s gross.” Gwen reaches over and ruffles his hair. He swats her away.

“Theeen,” she drawls, continuing her rant, “We have Ered. She’s your stereotypical stoned skater girl. Dolph is a walking Hitler caricature, but he’s actually really sweet. Nerris is a DnD nerd. Harrison does magic tricks, but I deadass think that kid has superpowers. He made flames appear out of nowhere yesterday. Um,” she counts on her fingers before continuing, “Preston is a Shakespeare wannabe, and Nikki is, well, _Nikki._ ”

Max nods. “They all sound awful.”

“Yeah,” Gwen says, “But they’re pretty fun once you get used to them. They keep me and David on our toes.” Max nods again.

“So, what do I do when I get there? Doesn’t everyone have their own camp?”

“Yeah,” Gwen says, “But we usually spend a day dedicated to each person’s camp. Today is Neil’s day, which is science camp. I think David has some baking soda volcano thing planned. Neil’s going to hate it,” she grins.

“Wow. And you didn’t tell David that was a lame idea?” Max snickers.

“Hell no!” Gwen laughs, “I want to see how this plays out. It’s like reality TV, but...actual _reality_. God knows I need as much enjoyment as I can squeeze out of that hellhole.” Max giggles at her cursing.

“That sounds like fun,” he says, before twisting around to grab her headphones from the backseat. Apparently, his social battery needs to recharge already, considering he asks _nicely_ if he can use them. She agrees, repeating the “Just don’t break them” rule from last time.

The ride to the camp doesn’t last much longer. Camp Campbell, while nestled deep in the woods, is only a twenty-minute drive from Max’s house. When they park in the dirt lot, they spot David getting out of his car. Max rolls down his window, an evil grin forming.

“Hey shitface!” He yells. David jumps and whirls around to face them.

“Goodness! You scared me!” His eyes narrow when he discovers the small figure who yelled. “Wait, Max, what are you doing here?”

“I hid in her car.”

“Why would you do that?” David asks, looking at Gwen for clarification. Gwen sighs and rolls up the window. She forces Max to get out of the car, threatening to lock him inside if he doesn’t move by the count of three.

“He did _not_ ,” she finally answers, stepping out of her car, “I’m just babysitting him today.”

“Don’t phrase it like that,” Max demands, crinkling his nose.

“Wow! Well, Max, I hope you have a great day at Camp Campbell! We’ll try to make it as fun-filled as we can, right Gwen?” David asks, swinging his arm. David recovers from the surprise of having a new camper sprung on them characteristically well. Sometimes Gwen wishes she could have just a smidgen of his enthusiasm.

When she sees David fluttering by Max’s side, trying to ruffle his hair, she reconsiders that statement.

“Right,” she says, slowly, “Let’s just get to the Mess Hall before the other campers show up.” She starts walking, not even caring if the others follow her or not.

“Will do, Gwen!”

“Yeah, will do, Gwen!” Max mimics in a nasally tone.

It’s going to be a long fucking day.

\---

Max took to Neil extremely well.

Add Nikki to the mix, and well, you have a sizzling concoction that spells disaster. The three have a natural chemistry, and she’s not just making that pun because it’s science day. After David’s failed presentation on “How to make a baking soda volcano,” the kids, led by the troublesome trio, held a chaotic protest. Gwen agreed to let them do their own thing, as long as they wore the proper safety equipment and stopped fucking chanting.

This led them to Neil finding a stash of chemicals in the Quartermaster’s store (Gwen doesn’t even want to know why the old man had them in the first place) and now, Neil’s very own explosive experiments.

“Neil!” Max shouts from behind the makeshift bunker, adjusting his goggles, “Add more sodium!”

“I don’t have that much left!” Neil cries. Regardless, he gathers the last few cubes out of the bag.

“Then put it all in at once! The last shebang!” Max yells, sharing a grin with Nikki.

“Yeah! Let ‘er rip! I want to see this place explode!” Nikki whoops. All of the campers cheer. The urge to take the deadly cubes away from them tickles the back of her throat.

“Just be careful,” Gwen scolds from her lawn chair behind the barricade, “I don’t need to file anymore paperwork this year.” The trio looks at her innocently. They nod, triple grins stretching across their faces.

“Everyone stand back! This is gonna be the biggest explosion yet!” Neil commands, puffing out his chest and unintentionally T-posing. Gwen rolls her eyes. When the kid is in his element, he’s annoyingly confident. The other campers, however, do as they’re told. With everyone behind the barricades, Neil drops the last handful of sodium into the water. He sprints to join them behind the barricade and his long-winded scream on the way there makes Gwen cover her ears.

Seconds later, a large flash of light emerges from the bin of water. Then a loud bang sounds, making everyone jump. Once the smoke clears, Nikki _herself_ explodes.

“That was awesome!” She bounces, grabbing Max's arm and shaking him. For the tiniest second, Gwen sees a smile flicker on his lips.

“Yeah,” he says, “I didn’t think he’d be able to pull it off.”

“It _was_ pretty cool,” Ered agrees. The others mummer similar sentiments.

“Thank you, thank you, everyone,” Neil curtsies, “I would just like you all to remember this moment the next time you tell me science is lame.” Nerf rolls his eyes, receiving the hint.

“Whatever, butt-sniffer,” the bully retorts.” Neil takes that response in stride. It's as good as he'll get, and he knows it.

“Thank you. Now, isn’t it almost time for lunch?” He asks, still glowing in temporary confidence, “All this mad-science-ing has made me hungry.”

\---

The trio, as expected, sit together at lunch. Gwen takes a seat at the end of the table. She decides not to let Max out of her sight, since he doesn’t have a signed waiver like the rest of the Campbell kids. She refuses to relive last year’s _Chucky_ situation. She shudders. She eats her sandwich in silence, only tuning in to their conversation when something particularly interesting comes up.

Like now.

The conversation starts off innocently enough with Neil bragging about his scientific endeavors this summer. Then, Nikki retells the thrilling tale of her time in the woods, chasing Muak (with multiple embellishments, Gwen might add). It's your classic "What do you do for fun," sort of prompt. However, when the time comes for Max to tell a story about _his_ interests, he shrugs, stating that he’s just not a very interesting person. Nikki gasps.

“That’s not true!” She scolds, swatting him on the arm. She turns to face Neil, her hands gesturing wildly as she speaks, “Max is really good at baking, Neil. Gwen told me. He made all kinds of sweets and brought them to her house when she didn’t feel good. Isn’t that so nice?” Neil quirks an eyebrow.

“Shut the fuck up, Nikki,” Max whisper-hisses. Mortification is written all over his face.

“That is pretty cool, actually,” Neil says, sensing his discomfort, “Baking is kind of just chemistry, right? Measuring and mixing ingredients until you get the result you want?”

“Aaand,” Max starts, returning to his normal pout, “You just made it uncool.” Neil sticks out his tongue.

“Aw,” Nikki frowns. “Well, if baking’s not cool, then what about your regular cooking? Gwen said you pranked David at the restaurant.” Max smiles at the memory. Nikki must consider his expression a success, for she latches on to that thread of information with added vigor. “Yeah! Max’s family owns a restaurant. It's really cool, Neil! You should come hang out with us sometime!” Neil makes a face and finally peels the crust off of his sandwich.

“Where is it?” He asks, taking a bite.

“Over by Walmart. It’s called…Um…Khanna’s Kitchen…?” Nikki guesses, looking over at Max for confirmation. He nods.

Then, Neil drops a bombshell:

“Didn’t that place get fucking robbed last week?”

Gwen drops her sandwich onto the paper plate, her eyes widening. Her heart seizes in her chest and a million questions race through her mind. “It got _what?!”_ She chokes. The kids startle at her sudden shouting. She almost feels bad for eavesdropping before she realizes there are more important things to worry about right now. 

All eyes return to Max, who sputters under the sudden attention.

“No!” His eyes flash dangerously as he stands up and leans over the table. “Where did you hear _that?”_

Neil holds his hands up in surrender, realizing his mistake. “I don’t know, man! I just saw it in the newspaper!” Max glares for another few seconds before sighing. He plops back into his chair and runs his hands through his hair. Gwen’s heart is still racing.

“Fuck,” he mutters. Gwen, Neil, and Nikki share a look.

“Is that true, Max?” Nikki asks, her eyes wide with sympathy. Max looks up and crosses his arms. He picks at his fingers, avoiding their eyes.

“Yeah…” He says, “Last week. Thursday.”

Gwen feels utterly betrayed. Both concern and anger swirl in her gut. “Jesus Christ, Max! That was the day before we went to the arcade! You didn’t think to tell me this?” 

“I don’t have to tell you shit!” he snarls. The air crackles with electricity. The fun atmosphere of the morning is long gone. Gwen looks at the boy with his wild curly hair and flashing green eyes and realizes that he’s an explosion waiting to happen. One wrong word will set the place on fire. She takes a deep breath and calms herself. Her old therapist better be fucking proud. David notices the altercation going on from across the room and tilts his head in the direction of the door. Everyone is staring. Gwen takes the hint.

She motions for Max to follow her away from the table. He drags his feet, giving Neil one last glare before following. Gwen leads him to the hallway and shuts the mess hall door behind them. Max glares at his feet.

“I wish you would have _told_ me,” she says, continuing their conversation. She balls her hands into fists. “I wish you trusted me enough to tell me. What, did you think I wouldn’t have believed you?” She asks. She tries to keep her voice level, but the tiniest bit of hurt shines through her words.

“No!” Max says, horrified. “I just didn’t want you to worry! It’s not that big of a fucking deal! It was just some fucking idiot waving around a gun. Avi was in front; It was fine!” Gwen laughs a staccato note, tilting her head back to huff at the cracked ceiling. Max is the most stupid fucking person she’s ever met.

“And what if he wasn’t? What if _you_ were in the front, like you usually are? What then, Max?”

“I don’t know!” He bursts, “I don’t know what you want me to fucking say!” Gwen brings the palms of her hands up to her eyes to will away the oncoming tears.

“I don’t know either,” she admits, “I just want you to tell me these things! I worry about you a lot, you know? And it breaks my heart that something bad like this happened to you and I had no idea.”

“I’m _okay,”_ he scoffs, as if she’s being unreasonable for worrying about a ten-year-old kid getting robbed. She knows it’s a front, though. She’s gotten quite good at knowing when Max is hiding what he really feels. It's in the way he latches on to any distraction he can give himself, hoping to forget why he's upset in the first place. It’s in the way that he bites his lip, the way his eyes shine as they dart around, looking for an escape.

“Are you?” She presses, “Because I would be pretty fucking shaken if someone pulled a gun on my family.” Max stomps his foot.

“What’s with you and touchy-feely shit all of the time? I’m over it. It happened and I’m moving on. Today was supposed to be fun, and you’re fucking ruining it,” he declares. His arms are crossed, as if he’s challenging Gwen to ask again. Jokes on him, she thinks. She’s persistent. Getting information out of Max when he’s upset is like pulling teeth, but thankfully, she’s getting pretty good at it as time goes on.

“I know you,” she tries a new tactic, sliding down the wall and sitting down, “I know that Avi means a lot to you, and that it was probably really scary seeing someone threaten him.” He clenches his jaw when she mentions his cousin’s name.

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” he bites, still looming over her, “You think you know everything, but you _don’t._ Just stay out of it. Avi tried to get involved too, and look where that got him.”

Gwen quirks an eyebrow, thinking back to this morning. Avi _did_ mention that he and Max’s dad had an argument.

“What happened with Avi?” She asks softly, holding out a hand.

Max’s face falls. He looks at her hand, then back to her, seemingly debating whether he should take it or not. He caves and lays his small hand on hers. She pulls him down to sit in front of herself and gives him a moment to gather himself. She’s almost got him.

“My dad and Avi got in a fight, that night,” he starts, glaring at his shoes. He quickly peeks at her face before continuing. She gives him an encouraging nod. He sighs.

“Avi said that he didn’t want me to run the front counter anymore, in case something like that happens again.” He pulls his knees to his chest and digs his fingernails into his jeans. “My dad didn’t like that. They got in a big fight and,” he rubs his eyes, “And now Avi can’t stay with us anymore. He’s not allowed to work in the restaurant either. Or even see me. So now I’m all alone with my parents again and they fight all the fucking time and I fucking hate it. _There._ Are you happy?”

Gwen pulls him into a hug. He melts into it and hides his face below her shoulder. She hears tiny hitches of breath and feels wetness above her heart. She hugs him tighter and rubs his back.

“I know, I know,” she soothes. What the hell is she supposed to say to that? This situation fucking sucks and she has no idea what to do. He pulls away and looks her dead in the eyes.

“I miss him,” he says, “I miss him, and it’s only been four days. I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

“We’ll figure it out,” she promises. She gives him a small smile. “Me, Nikki, and Neil? We’ve got your back.” Max gives her an unsure nod. He wipes his eyes.

“I wish I could just stay here at Camp Campbell,” he says, looking as small as Gwen has ever seen him.

“I wish you could too,” she says, and she means it with her entire heart.

If only things were that easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me waltzing in with more angst: Hey everyone!  
> Seriously, sorry for even more angst! But this chapter is very necessary for the plot. I now have a solid plan of where I want to go with this story! Woohoo! Hope you liked it!


	11. Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone spills the tea (figuratively).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy chapter!

Avi has an idea.

Granted, it’s a stupid fucking idea. It’s an idea so far-fetched that even David cringes as Avi explains it to him.

Right now, they’re at a bougie little café on the corner of Ninth Street. Earlier, on the phone, Avi told her all about his idea. He stumbled over the details, choking whenever Gwen asked him to clarify certain points. She felt weird having such a serious conversation over the phone, so she convinced him to meet her in person, along with David, to discuss it further.

“So, you’re saying,” David says slowly, the pieces falling together in his mind, “You’re saying that you want to fight for custody of Max?”

Avi nods, determination sparkling in his green irises. She hasn’t talked to the guy much, but she can tell he’s very bright. He knows the odds are stacked against him, but he’s willing to fight for Max anyway. That's something they all have in common, at least.

“Why do you want to do that?” David asks.

“Because it’s only getting worse,” Avi frowns, ticking off his grievances on his fingers: “His parents are fighting more and their marriage is falling apart. There’s barely any food at the house, and when there is, it’s because he buys it. He hasn’t been to the doctor in months. They make him work, at ten-years-old, in the front of the restaurant.” Avi ducks his head, “That one really scares me.”

“Max told me about the robbery,” Gwen blurts. She can’t help herself. She needs to address it before it drives her insane. David’s eyes fly open, but he opts to stay silent, deciding to figure out what he can from the way they interact. Gwen doesn’t give him enough credit; he knows his way around people.

“Yes,” Avi says, sucking in a breath, “So, you understand where I am coming from. I am so thankful that Makhesh was in the kitchen. _I_ didn’t even know what to do, and I’m the adult. It scares me to wonder what would have happened if I wasn’t there.”

Gwen nods solemnly. David clinks his spoon against the side of his cup, stirring as he gathers his thoughts. Gwen wants to hug him. She’s so glad she decided to bring him along. He has first-hand experience of how custody battles work, and he always gives sound advice. She worries this might be triggering for him, but he’s handling it very well so far. David clasps his hands together in the way Gwen knows he’s determined to break the tense atmosphere and cook up a solution.

“So, we’ve established that he’s not being taken care of properly, and that it’s in his best interest to stay with you,” David says, addressing Avi. “Now, you have to prove it. Are you a legal citizen?”

 _“David!”_ Gwen hisses.

“Dual-citizen,” Avi responds, not offended in the slightest. David nods to himself.

“Do you have an apartment or a house here?”

“No,” Avi says, his face downcast, “I was staying with Makhesh’s family, but that’s not an option anymore. I’ve been staying at my mom’s house ever since the argument.” David nods again, his face sympathetic. He may not know all the details, but he seems to know enough to put together a plan.

“I’d say housing is your first priority, then. Do you have any money saved?”

“I have a little over one thousand dollars in the bank here,” he responds. David hums.

“Okay. We’ll go job and house hunting today, then,” David declares, “Say all of this goes well and you get settled soon. Then, you’ll have to prove to the judge that his biological parents are unfit and that you’ve been acting as a parent to him.” David sighs. “It’ll be hard.”

“I’ll do anything,” Avi says earnestly, “He deserves it.”

David smiles.

“Then we’d better get to it, then.”

\---

Avi submits his resume to three different engineering firms in the area. He has a lot going for him—fantastic grades, three years of experience as an apprentice at a firm in India, another year of experience actually working, a foreign language—and they can only hope that it’s enough to land him a job.

They visit several different two-bedroom apartment complexes, checking each property off the list as they go. One is in a good neighborhood. It’s cheap, but it’s outside the school district cut-off. Max would have to go to a different school if they chose that one. Another is cheap, five minutes away from school, but it’s in a bad neighborhood. Another dud. After the fifth apartment they check off, Avi looks notably discouraged. She should probably reassure him or some shit. Unfortunately, she finds her own energy dwindling as well.

“We’ll find something,” David says, beating her to the punch, “There are still so many that we haven’t seen yet!” He gives her hand a small, encouraging squeeze before opening the car door for her. The three pile back into David’s car and Gwen checks the list again. If this one doesn’t work out, she might just have to be done for the day.

“What if you tried the complexes on Main Street?” She asks, tapping on the listing with the end of her pen, “They’re looking for tenants. Plus, it’s right across from where I live, and it’s a five-minute walk to the school.” Avi’s eyes light up.

“Yes!” He exclaims, “Let’s try those!” David smiles as he puts his car into drive.

The apartments on Main Street are a success. Rent is $700 a month. If they can get Avi making the same kind of money he made at his job in India, they should have no trouble affording it. The landlord allows them to check out the inside of a vacant unit. It’s not fantastic, but it’ll do.

The window filters in a warm glow, making the dust glimmer as it falls to the ground. With a little cleaning and updating, it wouldn’t be half-bad, Gwen thinks. She imagines a couch in the corner, a small figure lounging over its arm dramatically as he plays video games. She imagines a desk in the room, an irate fifth-grader scratching his head as he writes an essay for school. She imagines a stepstool boosting a little boy who fries Jalebi while he sings his heart out.

He doesn’t fear slamming doors. He doesn’t worry about work, or money. He has a family who would do anything for him.

He’s content.

He’s a kid.

He’s Max.

“I think this is the one,” Gwen says, stopping in the middle of the room.

 A grin stretches across Avi’s face. “I think so too.”

\---

Max isn’t too sure about their plan.

They brought him to the tiny café they visited earlier to break the news to him. His eyes flit between the three adults as he sips his bubble tea.

“What about my mom? I can’t just leave her!” He gestures wildly, almost knocking the lid off his cup. Gwen winces and tightens it for him. She feels sorry for him. Even if his mom isn’t the greatest, he obviously cares more about her than his dad. Gwen thinks of her own mother. If she were his age, would she be able to leave her mother behind? Probably not. But then again, her mother wasn’t a neglectful asshole.

“She’ll be fine, Makhesh. She is a grown woman. She can take care of herself,” Avi soothes, “Besides, I talked to her over the phone yesterday. She said it would be okay for you to stay with me. She doesn’t think that place is good for you either.”

“This feels slimy,” he says, hugging himself. “I don’t want her to be alone with dad.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” David pipes, “You’d most likely get to see her often. The court takes visitation rights very seriously. And Avi wouldn’t care if you went to see her. Right, Avi?” David gives Avi a pointed look, daring him to say no.

Avi, by the look on his face, _would_ care, but he doesn’t argue. “Right,” he agrees, reluctantly.

At that answer, Max leans back in his chair. David knows just the right things to say, and it hurts Gwen to remember that her boyfriend was once in this same position. She has a sinking feeling that he’s parroting all the things he wishes someone would have said to him.

“Okay,” Max says. He chews his straw and swings his feet under the table, “So, you said you already went looking for an apartment?”

“Yes,” Avi responds, “I also gathered documents and hired a lawyer yesterday. We have our first real meeting tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Max says, unsure, “Do I…need to do anything?”

“No, Max,” David jumps back in, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry about any of it. We’ll take care of it. I promise.” Max blinks.

“Okay,” Max sighs. He looks so tired. Gwen ruffles his hair.

“We’ve got this, kid,” she says. Avi flashes an awkward grin. Max takes a sip through his chewed straw, his lips quirking up at the edges.

With a game plan in mind, all they can do is wait.


	12. Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max, Nikki, and Gwen go to the store to buy a cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back bitches!!!!!
> 
> Thank you all for being so nice. I had a great time with my family for the fourth and even got to meet up with a good friend of mine! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this silly chapter.

When Gwen visits the restaurant the following week, Max is working the front counter again. She has half a mind to go and scold his parents. To her surprise, Nikki is sitting on a chair to his right. The two kids are glued to their phones.

“Hey Gwen,” Max glances up, only sparing her a second before tapping frantically at his screen. At the mention of her favorite camp counselor, Nikki does a double take. She sets the phone down with more force than necessary. Gwen winces.

“Hi, Gwen!” She greets, “We were wondering if you were ever going to show up!”

“You owe me five dollars, Nikki,” Max mutters. Nikki blows a raspberry at him.

“You guys bet on if I’d show up or not?”

“Yeah,” Max says, pausing his game. His eyes flick to Gwen’s. “I told her you’d come. You always do.” Something in her heart swells.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Nikki taps her finger against her chin, “What took you so long anyway?”

“Got stuck at camp. Space kid’s ride was late and David and I had to convince him that space flight was _not_ a feasible mode of transportation. The kid wouldn’t leave his cardboard box.”

“What an idiot,” Max says, rolling his eyes. He goes back to his game. Gwen shrugs.

“This is pretty tame for him,” she says. She leans over to peek at his phone. “What are you guys playing?”

“Minecraft,” Max answers, “But I’m getting bored. You can only kill Nikki with lava so many times before it’s not funny anymore,” he sighs. Nikki nods in agreement.

“Why don’t you guys fight the dragon or something?” Gwen asks. Max scoffs.

“Tried. Nikki keeps fucking it up.”

“Not true! You were the one who fell from the tower!”

“Shut up!” Max says in mock offence, “It’s only because you missed the crystal and hit me with the snowballs instead!”

“Heh, heh, yeah…” Nikki giggles. She stages whispers to Gwen: “That may or may not have been on purpose.” Max flicks her on the forehead. She pouts and rubs the tender spot with her fist.

“Riveting tale,” Gwen says, her amused smile betraying the sarcasm she was going for. “So, what’s the plan for today?” She asks. Max peeks into the kitchen to see if his parents are there. They’re not. Gwen wonders where they went. Maybe the break room?

“I don’t care,” Max says, “But my dad has been super pissed today, so we have to sneak out without him noticing.” Gwen clenches her jaw. Calm down, Gwen. It’s fine.

“Ooh!” Nikki says, “A secret mission! Like Barbie Secret Agent! I hated that game. That robot dog could never follow directions,” she tsks, shaking her head. Gwen and Max just look at each other, both of their faces spelling out “What the fuck” for them.

“Anyway,” Gwen continues, getting them back on topic, “Just pick out what you want to do.”

“Weeell, there is one thing,” Nikki says, tugging on Max’s hoodie. He shakes her off. She pouts, but doesn’t take no for an answer. _“Max!_ Tell her the thing!” She pouts.

 _“Fine,”_ Max huffs, as if he’s doing her an amazing favor, “Nikki thought it would be a good idea to surprise Neil. It’s his birthday today. She wants to get him a cake and a present.” Nikki nods frantically, looking at Gwen for approval.

Gwen blinks. When did these kids get so thoughtful? Did clones come in and replace them while she was gone? Nevertheless, she agrees, wanting to encourage their sudden burst of generosity. “Do you want to walk over to Walmart?” She suggests. Nikki bounces, eager to get going right this instant. Max is still subdued, but she sees a glimmer of excitement in the way he taps his feet on the floor.

“Sure,” he says, “Just let me tell my mom real quick.” He runs to the break room, only to return with an unamused look on his face.

“Welp, no one’s even here, so I guess they left a little early.” She checks her watch. She knows for a fact that the restaurant isn’t supposed to close for another twenty minutes. She can’t believe they just left him here by himself. What happened to the vague heart-to-heart Avi had with Max’s mom? Does she just pick random days when she decides to give a shit about her son? Gwen is absolutely baffled. She bites the side of her cheek. Hard.

“Help me close up?” Max asks, tugging on her sleeve. She looks down at him and Nikki, only to see two worried expressions on her kiddos’ faces. She shakes herself out of it.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course. What do I need to do?” Max hums a low note and scans the room.

“You guys can put stuff away in the kitchen. Rice goes in the top left cabinet above the stove, the fresh ingredients go back into the fridge, and you can just throw the utensils in the sink. I’ll get them tomorrow. I’ll go count the money and clean the tables.”

“Got it,” Gwen says. She lays a hand on Nikki’s shoulder, steering her in the right direction. “Let’s go, kid.”

After much bumbling about from Nikki and Gwen (they manage to drop a total of two pots and knock over one spice container, causing Max to scold them from the other room), they finally consider their work finished. They share a quick high-five and meet Max back at the front counter. He flips through the money with practiced ease.

“Aaand, done.” He puts the money in an envelope and puts the envelope in a safe under the counter. Gwen’s not sure that’s the best way to do things, but hey, she’s never run a business before.

“So, are we cool to leave?” She asks. Max pulls out his key ring from his pocket.

“Yeah. I locked the back door a minute ago, so all we have to do is lock the front when we leave.” Gwen nods and spins her key ring on her finger.

“Alright! Let’s go get some cake!” She says, trying to force the anger out of her system with manufactured cheer. This is what David does, right?

After Max locks the door, the trio heads down the sidewalk. They don’t even take five steps before the muggy summer air gets to her. Gwen can already feel her forehead prickling with sweat and one look at the kids tells her they feel the same way.

“We can just take my car,” she suggests, praying they’ll accept the offer. Nikki agrees vehemently, while Max protests. He mutters something about wasting gas to drive somewhere two minutes away. Gwen can’t help but roll her eyes.

“Come on, Max, we’d have to come back here afterwards to come get it anyway. Let’s just kill two birds with one stone.” Max mulls it over before reluctantly agreeing that Gwen’s way is more efficient. They jump in the car and head down the street. The evening sun shines bright in her eyes, blinding her. She utters a swear under her breath and adjusts her visor. It does jack shit. She counts to ten in her head.

“Earth to Gwen?” Max says, kicking her seat, “You good?”

“Don’t get your dirty shoes on my seat,” she warns in a tone only a mother can possess, “But yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.” She pulls into the parking lot and finds a spot near the front.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Nikki asks, already unbuckling her seat belt.

“Just wondering if the reason why Neil was so smiley today was because it’s his birthday,” she bullshits.

“Oh, yeah! He said his mom sent him a new microscope. He said he’s going to be the one to prove that the Jaclyn Hill lipsticks have mold.” Gwen snorts.

“Sounds like he’s already biased. And since when does Neil care about lipstick?” She asks.

“He doesn’t! Or so he says…” Nikki mumbles, “He says he just likes the drama of it all. He and Preston binge-watch _Spill’s_ videos whenever they manage to steal David’s phone.”

“So that’s why David’s data has been through the roof lately, you little shits!” Gwen scolds with no real heat. She’s not paying David’s phone bill, so it doesn’t make her much of a difference. She’ll have to let him know, though. On second thought, David probably already knows and is just letting them have fun. At the thought of her boyfriend, she smiles.

“Yawn,” Max pipes, peeling his eyes away from his phone, “I could do so much worse. Nikki, have you ever installed a virus on someone’s phone?”

“No! You can do that?!”

“Probably not! But if I were as smart as Neil, I would’ve fucked up his phone so much that I would make him bribe me in order to fix it.”

“Wow, Max, that’s pretty dark!” Nikki says, fighting against her seat belt. Max smiles smugly.

“Thank you,” he says, “I try.”

When the trio pulls into the Walmart, Gwen grabs both of their hands.

“Ew, gross, Gwen. You don’t have to hold our hands. We’re ten!” Max tries to squirm free. Gwen grips his hand even tighter.

“I don’t trust you little monsters in a giant store like this. You’re bound to get into trouble.”

“That’s fair,” Nikki says, picking up a penny off of the ground and putting it into her mouth. Gwen sighs.

“Come on, Gwen, I walk here all of the time. We’ll be good, I promise.” Again, she’s not surprised at the utter neglect of his parents allowing a ten-year-old to walk to a Walmart in the shady part of town by himself. However, one look of the patented _Max pout_ softens her.

“Fine,” she relents, “But keep your goddamn phones on you.” The children whoop and make a break for the toy section. Gwen shakes her head and pushes the rickety cart along the isles. She picks up a couple things for dinner in the grocery section before meeting up with the kids in the toy isle.

To her horror, Max is climbing up the shelf, knocking over plastic packages left and right. Nikki is still at ground level, thankfully, but it’s not too much of a relief since she’s pumping her arms, cheering Max on. The boy sticks his tongue out in concentration as he climbs. Neither one of them notice her coming up behind them.

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?” She scolds, putting her hands on her hips. Nikki twirls around, wide-eyed, and stops chanting. Max looks back quickly, losing his hold on the mouth of the shelf.

“Shit!” He stumbles, desperately trying to grab onto anything he could reach. Gwen doesn’t know how, but the second he starts falling, she manages to reach him in three long strides. She catches him clumsily with one arm before letting him down slowly to the floor.

“Wow! Do it again!” Nikki cries, her eyes sparkling up at Gwen. Max pouts from his place on the floor.

“Jesus fuck, Gwen, you scared me!” He stands up and brushes off his pants with an air of disgust, like he can’t believe Gwen had the audacity to stop him from doing something dangerous.

“Tough shit,” she says, trying to keep her voice from betraying her panic. Honestly, the kid could’ve broken his fucking neck. He was on the fifth shelf up!

“Why the hell were you even climbing up there to begin with? You know I could’ve gotten whatever it is down for you.”

“Bold of you to assume I have any patience,” Max mutters.

“It’s my fault Gwen!” Nikki interrupts, her lip wobbling, “I found a DIY kit that I thought Neil would like, but it was really high up. Max said he could get it.”

“Ah. Superhero complex, then,” Gwen supplies, pushing past Max to search for the box.

“Shut the fuck up Gwen,” Max bites, crossing his arms. She snorts at his obvious mortification.

“Just promise you won’t do that again and maybe I will.”

 _“Fine,”_ Max huffs, crossing his arms. His eyes flick up to the multicolored box. “It’s right there, you blind bitch,” he points and crosses his arms. She almost laughs at his poor attempt to save face by insulting her.

“Oh? I don’t see it?” She bluffs, looking everywhere but where he’s pointing. Nikki cackles.

“Oh my god, Nikki. She needs glasses. Or eye surgery. We’d better throw in a fucking white cane while we’re at it,” Max says. Nikki hides her giggles behind her hands. She gives Gwen a knowing look. Gwen winks at her.

“Just point to it, Max,” she states. “It’s not that hard.” Max sputters and throws his hands into the air. He rants and raves incomprehensibly for a moment before finally saying: “I did! It’s right th—”

He spots their matching grins, “Oh, I see what’s going on here,” he says, narrowing his eyes. Nikki and Gwen burst into laughter. Gwen leans over and clutches her stomach, while Nikki collapses and pounds the dirty Walmart floor.

“Oh, ha ha, very funny,” Max rolls his eyes, “Stop laughing or I’m going to climb up there again. Maybe jump off and kill myself in the process.”

Gwen wipes the tears from her eyes and hoists Nikki up. “Don’t be so dramatic, Max. Look, I’ll get it.” True to her word, she steps up on her tippy-toes and retrieves the box. It looks like some kind of cheaply-made “Make-your-own-spa-lotions-and-perfumes” sort of thing. She raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, hear me out,” Nikki claps her hands together as if she’s about to make a serious business proposal, “Neil likes chemistry stuff, right? And contrary to popular belief, I like smelly-good stuff. Plus, he’s really into that beauty community drama, right? He could make his own horrible products! Anyway. I think this present would benefit us both. Thank you.” She curtsies. Max shrugs.

“Sounds reasonable to me,” he says.

“Fine,” Gwen caves, checking the price tag. For twenty bucks, the kids better fucking like it. She hands the box to Nikki. “Put it in the cart.” Nikki rushes forward and hugs her knees.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She bounces. For the rest of the shopping trip, there’s a skip in her step. Max rolls his eyes a few times, but remains surprisingly cordial. Gwen directs them to the make-up isle. She needs to get new brushes because David ruined hers last week. She was a little mad at first, but seeing the bright blush on his face when she broke the news that _no, those aren’t paintbrushes,_ and _yes, that’s probably why your happy little trees are turning into sad little blobs of bushes_ made up for it. She mulls over the shitty collection of brushes, hoping to find a decent pack she can use until she can make a trip to the Sephora a couple towns away.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Max and Nikki stooped low to the ground, admiring the nail polish on the lower shelves. Curious, she grabs a pack of the sturdiest-yet-cheap-looking-brushes and heads over to the kids.

“Whatcha looking at,” she asks, throwing the pack into the cart. Max looks up like a deer caught in headlights. He quickly shoves the polish he was holding back onto the shelf.

“Nothing,” he says quickly, while Nikki simultaneously yells “Nail polish!”

“You can get _one,”_ Gwen says, “But not the expensive shit. Under six dollars is the limit.” Max frowns.

“Nikki, don’t you think that’s kind of overkill? We’re already buying him the _spa kit,”_ he hisses the words as if they’re poison.

“No, silly! The nail polish is for you!”

“For me?” Max scrunches up his nose, “Why the hell would I want nail polish? I’m not a girl. Or gay. Or a nerd like _Neil.”_

“You don’t have to be any of those things to wear nail polish, dumbass. It’s literally paint.” Gwen points out.

“Yeah, Max! You liked this one, right?” Nikki grabs a bottle of black polish and holds it against his stubby nails. He snatches his hand away.

“Absolutely _not,”_ he denies, looking to Gwen for back-up. She’s not going to give it to him. Instead, she fake coughs into her arm and mutters “Fragile masculinity.”

“Holy fuck, fine!” Max yells, throwing his head back to glare at the ceiling. When he yanks it forward again, the girls give him a satisfied look.

“Great,” Gwen says, putting the polish into the cart. “Now, I think that’s everything. Can we leave now? It’s getting crowded as fuck in here.”

“Yeah, I’m ready to get away from you idiots as soon as possible,” Max says. He snatches the cart from her and pushes it in the direction of the storefront. Gwen isn’t going to complain. Nikki perches on the end of the cart while Max pushes it. Every once in a while, when there’s a clearing of no people around, he pushes it as fast as he can and jumps on. Nikki squeals in delight when he does this. Gwen chastises them lightly, like a responsible adult should, but she honestly doesn't care if they stop or not. She did similar shit with her brother and sister as a kid, so she doesn't want to ruin the fun. Once they get in line, Nikki catches Max smiling softly as he places his new item on the conveyor belt.

“It’s gonna look so cute on you!” She squees. Max huffs and gives her a smirk. “It’s gonna look, badass; that’s what it’s gonna look. Now hand me the fucking kit.”

Nikki obliges, but not before sharing a quick grin with Gwen.

“Hey guys?” Max pipes a few minutes later, depositing the last bag in the cart and putting his hands on his hips, “I think we forgot the cake.”

Shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter should've been called "cheese" because it's full of it. Next chapter's going to be even worse. Prepare yourself for stupid amounts of silliness before we get back into the plot.


	13. Fried Rice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max, Neil, and Nikki have a spa day at Gwen's house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS. I AM SO SORRY! I recently got a new job and I've been training/working nearly every single day, leaving me little time to write. I hope you enjoy this super long chapter though!

On Saturday, Gwen’s day starts out just _great._ At nine am, the two demons wake her up with a  _discord_ voice chat. Two whiny voices sound from the other side, listing bribes and promises of being good if she just did this one _teensy_ thing. Apparently, Neil’s mom and dad are arguing again, so the other two beg to let him come over.

She almost yells at them to leave her alone on her day off and to just hang out at Max or Nikki’s before she realizes those would be two _very_ not good ideas. Well, Max’s house is a definite no at least. And sure, Candy’s nice and all, but Gwen’s not sure there would be anyone to supervise them since the green-haired woman works on Saturdays. Gwen rubs her temples and sighs, resting her cheeks in the palms of her hands.

“If we’re doing this, you guys can’t be fucking crazy. I’m crampy and not in the mood. Nikki, you bring me some Midol. Max, bring some goddamn food—”

“Psh, as if I wasn’t already going to—”

“And Neil can…What should Neil’s job be?”

“Ooh! Ooh!” Nikki voice yells, causing the audio to distort, “Neil can bring his spa kit! We could have a spa day!”

“Sure, whatever,” Gwen waves her hand despite having no one to see it, “Just don’t let him blow up my apartment. I’m stuck with this lease for a while.”

“Will do, Captain Gwen!”

The corners of Gwen’s lips twitch into a smile. God, she can't stay mad at these dumbasses. She stands up from her recliner and stretches, keeping the phone in place by squeezing her shoulder against her head.

“So, is Neil ready to be picked up right now? I’ll get him first since he’s the furthest away.”

“Yeah, he said he wants to leave as soon as possible. I’ll send you his address,” Max says. She feels a vibration against her ear, so she checks the text.

 

Spicy Bitch 👹🌶💯🛸 (9:15 am)

543 Chapmans Lane

Santa Rosa, NM

 

Spicy Bitch 👹🌶💯🛸 (9:15 am)

thank u cus Neil has been super bitchy lately lol

 

Spicy Bitch 👹🌶💯🛸 (9:16 am)

Like i get it but damn

 

Gwen rolls her eyes at his texts. After putting the directions on her phone, she types a quick reply.

 

Gwen (9:17 am)

yeah, yeah yw, I’m leaving now

 

Gwen backs out of her driveway and turns on the radio for some background noise. A man with a low, droning voice describes the gloomy weather forecast for the day. One look at the darkening sky could have told her all she needed to know. Despite a few stray raindrops splatting against her windshield, the drive to Neil’s house is simple enough. His cul-de-sac is in one of the nicest neighborhoods in Santa Rosa. The white, brick street sign is lined with hedges, and a small, out of sight spotlight illuminates the curling letters. His house is more modest than most in the neighborhood, but compared to her tiny apartment, it might as well be a mansion. She almost feels nervous going up to the door in her current outfit. A band T-shirt and pajama pants are not the way to impress rich people, Gwen. She swallows her pride and knocks on the door anyway—there’s no way she’s driving all the way back to put on a damn suit and tie just to pick up the kid.

Through the frosted glass, Gwen can see Carl bumbling down the stairs. She snickers to herself, wondering why she was nervous to begin with. Carl’s goofy-ass won’t care if she’s in pajamas. He’s probably not dressed himself.

When the door swings open, Gwen is pleased to find her assumption correct. Carl ducks his head sheepishly and gives her a polite “hello!” before trotting upstairs to fetch Neil. The science nerd emerges from the top of the stairs, throwing on a light jacket over his pajamas as he comes down.

“Hey, Gwen,” he greets, standing awkwardly by Gwen’s side.

“Hey.”

Carl comes back a moment later and smiles brightly at Gwen. “Thank you so much for having Neil over today! He’s just so excited to hang out with his friends! I would let them stay here, but I’m afraid I’m very busy today.”

The way his eyes dart upstairs, coupled with his forced smile gives him away. Add the tidbit of information the kids gave her about Neil’s parents’ fighting and it’s obvious that he’s lying. No wonder Neil can’t bullshit to save his life.

“It’s okay, Carl. Just let me know what time you want him to come home. He can spend the night if he wants, too. I don’t mind.” Neil shoots her a thankful glance.

“Thank you, Gwen, you’re very kind! I’ll check in with Neil around three.” He turns to address his son, “Keep your phone on you, okay?”

“Okay, dad,” Neil whines, shifting on his feet. Carl nudges him and winks.

“Have fun, okay? Don’t worry so much. We’re fine, buddy.”

Neil gives him a skeptical look but nods anyway. Noticing the tense atmosphere, Gwen nudges Neil on the shoulder in the direction of the door.

“Well, thanks again, Carl, we’ll talk later. Call me if you need anything,” she says, returning to her responsible adult voice.

“Alright, bye you too! Drive safe!” Carl stands on the porch and watches them get into the car, even going as far to wave at them as they back out.

“Oh my god, he’s so embarrassing,” Neil says, buckling his seatbelt. His cheeks are bright red. He clutches his duffle bag close to his chest.

“Yeah, he’s a bit goofy,” Gwen smiles, “But at least he cares?”

“Yeah, I guess…” Neil looks out the window. The two sit in silence for a while. The radio announcer moves on to the topic of school. Which somehow reminds Gwen…

“Hey, did you bring that DIY lotion shit?”

“Mmm. It’s in my bag. You’re sure you’re cool with us making a mess in your house?” Neil tears his eyes away from the scenery outside to raise an eyebrow at her.

“You’re not _going_ to make a mess in my house. If you spill one goddamn thing, you’re cleaning it up, immediately.”

“Right, right!” Neil nods.

“Good. Tell your friends that too.”

Speaking of, the next person on her list to pick up is Max. Neil looks a bit apprehensive as they pull into the neighborhood, but keeps his mouth shut. They pull up into the driveway and Gwen tells Neil to text him. A few minutes later, Max emerges from his house and hops into the back seat of her car. He’s carrying a large plastic bag.

“Hey guys,” he says, leaning over to grab the door handle. With a grunt, he finally manages to get it closed. Damn, she really _should_ get him a booster seat.

“Hey Max,” Neil echoes.

“Seatbelt.” Is all the greeting he gets from a pre-coffee Gwen. Max sets aside the bag and does as he’s told. Good, Gwen thinks. No arguments yet.

“What did you bring, Max?” Neil asks, peering around his headrest at the treats in the backseat.

“Stuff for fried rice.” Max deadpans, crossing his arms. Neil raises an eyebrow. So does Gwen, however, she decides not to interject and instead eavesdrops on the conversation.

“You’re Chinese? I thought you were—”

“Yup,” Max interrupts, popping the ‘p,’ “My grandparents came from China in 1952. We’ve been here ever since.”

“Huh. Then why do you—”

“Jesus Christ, Neil, he’s fucking with you,” Gwen huffs. Fuck eavesdropping. She glares at Max in the rear-view mirror, which causes him to grin in response. “What’s the real reason, Satan?”

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Max states, his eyes flicking to the bag. His grin is replaced by a small frown.

“I was going to make something good, but my stupid parents were in the kitchen. I went to the store a while ago to get some stuff. Something easy I could make at your house, you know?”

The implication of his words doesn’t register in Gwen’s sleep-deprived brain until Neil says something: “Holy shit, you went to the store by yourself at,” Neil looks at his watch, “Nine in the morning?!” Max startles at the outburst before returning to his nonchalant pose.

“Max, what the hell?!” She yells, quickly turning around to scold him before returning half of her attention to the road.

“Calm down. You guys are so over-dramatic,” Max rolls his eyes and shifts in his seat. “It’s like, barely a fifteen-minute walk.” The image of Max carrying those groceries (heavy ones, too, judging by the multitude of items peeking out of the bag), by himself, just to make _them_ food, fills her with guilt.

“Max!” She sputters, shaking her head, “If you didn’t have anything, we could’ve just gotten take-out!”

“Technically, fried rice _is_ a take-out food,” Max points out. “It’s not a big deal. You two are just pussies,” he rolls his eyes again.

Gwen clenches the steering wheel as an awful thought hits her. “Oh my god, what if you had gotten kidnapped?”

“Or murdered?” Neil adds. Max shoots a venomous glare in his direction.

“Or murdered!” Gwen repeats.

“That would be awesome,” Max says dryly. “I’d get to be on TV. Like a real superstar.”

“Max, I’m going to murder you _myself_ if you don’t take me fucking seriously right now.” Gwen clenches her jaw. Both boys stop dead in their tracks. Any witty retort from either dies on their tongues. She takes a deep breath.

 _“Don’t._ Do that again. Do you hear me? I appreciate the thought, I really do, but it was stupid as _fuck_ to walk around town by yourself.”

“I do it all the time, and I’m going to _keep_ doing it,” Max says, his nostrils flaring, “Unless you want me to _starve?”_ The tension amplifies ten-fold with that one word. Neil’s eyes dart back and forth between them, and he looks like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Gwen takes another deep breath to calm herself. This is not a conversation she needs to be getting into in front of his friend.

“Call _me_ if you need to get groceries. I can drive you.” Gwen says, her tone final. Max eyes her warily.

“I’d rather die, but thanks.”

“Too bad. We’re finishing this conversation later, by the way.”

“Oh wow, I can’t _wait_.” Max tugs hard on his hoodie string and slumps in his seat.

After a moment of tense silence, Neil speaks up. “So, um…” He clears his throat and crosses his legs, peeking at Max to gauge his mood, “Fried rice is good!”

“Nice topic change, asshole. Real subtle.” Max sighs, “But yeah, it is. It’s easy to make and it’s cheap. I’ll show you how to make it if you want.”

Neil nods. “Oh! Sure! And Nikki said you like making desserts, right? Maybe sometime you could come over and my dad and I could show you how to make sufganiyot!”

“The fuck is that?”

“It’s kind of a jelly donut?” He tilts his head, thinking, “We make them for Hanukkah.”

“Oh, cool. Sounds fun, I’m down.” Max shrugs. Gwen sighs in relief. She doubted Neil’s ability to get Max to chill out, but it seems she underestimated him.

She has Max guide her to Nikki's and they reach the house soon enough—It’s not in the best neighborhood, but it’s not the worst, either. She doesn’t doubt that Nikki’s mom has a sugar daddy helping them pay the bills. She makes Max and Neil ring the doorbell since she doesn’t want to get up. They grumble at the demand but decide not to argue.

Nikki skips out of her house a minute later in pajamas, followed by her mother, who comes over to Gwen’s window starts up a conversation. Gwen wants to groan, but she plasters on a smile and chats for a while. Finally, Nikki decides enough is enough and bugs her mom to let her go. Max steals the front seat from Neil as the conversation winds down, much to the science nerd’s dismay, and the other two tumble into the back seat.

“Watch the food, Nikki!” Max demands, twisting around in his seat to yell at her. Nikki simply picks up the bag and scoots it aside, leaving enough room for Neil to squeeze in.

“Alright, thanks Candy, I’ll give you a call tomorrow!” Gwen says as she waves Candy goodbye.

As soon as Gwen rolls up the window and backs out of the driveway, she slumps in her seat.

“Sweet Jesus, I’m ready to sleep. You guys better give me a hell of a spa day for this.”

“I’m going first. You're doing my nails.” Max says, pulling the polish from his pocket and waving it around. Nikki grabs it from him and examines it like she’s never seen it before.

“How much longer until we get to your house?” Nikki asks, once she decides that the nail polish is up to standards.

“About five minutes. Now sit down, shut up, and let me listen to my music.” Gwen plugs in the aux cord and plays some of the most god-awful anime theme songs she can find. They deserve a bit of torture for what they’re about to put her through.

The kids sigh in relief once they reach Gwen’s house. Neil helps Max carry the groceries inside and Gwen gives Nikki the _very special_ task of unlocking the door. She fumbles with it, causing the boys to bitch and moan, before Gwen finally helps her out. It’s not her fault, really; the door knob is shitty and needs to be replaced.

Once inside, Max shows Neil where to put the groceries. The Jewish boy raises an eyebrow at Max’s familiarity of the place, but he doesn’t provoke him. Max dusts off his hands in show of finality.

“You and Nikki go set up the spa stuff,” he demands, already shifting into leader-mode, “I’ll start on the food. Gwen, you’re going first.”

“I thought you wanted to go first?” Neil pipes. Max shrugs and starts opening the bag.

“Changed my mind. I’m fucking hungry.” He sets the ingredients one by one on the counter. Nikki runs off to explore the house and Gwen can’t be bothered enough to care.

“Sounds good to me,” Gwen shrugs, heading into the hallway. She grabs a few blankets from the hall closet for them to snuggle up with. Before she turns to head to the living room, however, she hears the tail end of Max’s razor-sharp whisper: “And keep Nikki from fucking crawling all over her. She doesn’t feel good.”

Gwen smiles to herself and closes the door. “Alright, losers,” she announces, carrying a bundle full of blankets to the couch, “Nikki?”

“Back here!” Nikki jumps up from behind the couch, scaring the shit out of Gwen.

“What were you doing back there?” Gwen asks.

“I was playing with your dust bunnies. They’re so cute!”

“Uh huh…” Gwen nods, not even questioning it. “Just help me set this stuff up. Did you grab the nail polish from Max?”

“Yep! It’s right here in my pocket!” She points to the middle of her overalls.

“Good. Now, first, let’s…Hmm, what all do we need for a spa day?” Gwen taps her finger to her chin. “Towels, bowls…You can grab some towels from the bathroom closet. You think you can manage that?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh!” Nikki nods, racing off in a random direction.

“That way,” Gwen points in the opposite direction, a small smile forming on her face. While Nikki gets the towels, Gwen decides to grab some stuff from her room. She’s not sure what she’s looking for, but when she sees it, she’ll figure it out.

She ends up finding some nail clippers, a cuticle cutter, and some fresh nail files (thank you Walgreens), as well as a container of charcoal face mask. She roots through her nail polish bin and finds a couple of half-empty bottles that still look usable. She tsks at the goopy ones with crusted lids. She’ll have to throw them out later.

Deciding she’s found enough on her treasure hunt, she returns to the living room to find Nikki and Neil sitting on the floor, opening the DIY box. The bowls and towel are placed neatly on the coffee table. Gwen doesn’t think that Nikki’s stupid, but she _is_ impressed that the girl managed to find not only the towels, but also the bowls, which Gwen didn’t even ask her to grab.

“Thanks Nikki,” she says, reaching over their heads to grab a bowl. She heads into the kitchen to fill it up with warm water. Max is cutting up carrots on the counter.

“’Scuse me,” she squeezes past and turns on the tap. She peeks over at his handiwork. “Need any help?”

“No, I’m good,” he slides the chopped carrots off of the cutting board and into a bowl with chopped onions and peas. He wipes his hands off on a towel and opens the fridge.

“Oh good, you have eggs. I forgot them,” He says. He goes on his tippy-toes to grab them. Gwen giggles as she watches him struggle. Suddenly, the water overflows onto her hand.

“Shit,” she mutters, turning the sink off with her free hand. At least it didn’t spill on the floor.

Max smirks. “Serves you right.” He closes the door with his foot and sets the carton on the counter. He steps back for a moment before putting his hands on his hips.

“What?” Gwen asks, setting the heavy bowl on the counter for a moment.

“Can Neil even eat this?” Max asks. “Like, is it kosher and shit?”

“I don’t know, ask him.” Gwen picks up the bowl again and strides into the living room. She lays out a towel on the coffee table and places the bowl on top. Nikki pulls out the ingredients from the DIY box and arranges them on the floor.

“Neil!” Max yells from the kitchen, “Are you even allowed to eat fried rice?” Neil leans over from his spot on the floor to make eye contact with Max in the kitchen.

“Um, I should! Does it have any meat or dairy in it?’ He asks. Max looks down at the ingredients.

“Do eggs count?”

“Nah,” Neil yells back, “It should be fine! We’re not super strict anyway.”

“’Kay.” Max turns and goes back to his cooking. Gwen hears a sizzle from the pan and assumes he’s browning the vegetables. The microwave beeps a minute later.

“The hell are you using the microwave for?” Gwen yells, recalling a conversation in which Max declared the small appliances to be the death of cooking as a hobby. Nikki snickers beside her.

“Making goddamn minute rice from 8 separate serving cups. The store only had these and huge bags of rice. Couldn’t carry them. As an Asian, I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

Gwen snorts and lays out another three towels. She decides to hold off on the water for the others, not wanting it to go cold while they wait for her.

“Alright, I think we have everything situated,” Neil says, admiring his work. “I’ll start mixing the lotions if you want to put that mud shit on her face.”

“Ooh, mud?” Nikki bounces and reaches for the container. Gwen swipes it from the table before the little menace can get to it.

“It’s a charcoal mask, thank you, and I can do this part myself. Honestly, if you want to help, you can give me that Midol you brought.”

“Oh! Yeah!” She reaches into her side overall pocket and hands over the bottle.

“Thanks,” Gwen says. She dry swallows a couple pills. Neil holds up a few fragrances to her nose, allowing her to choose which one he should use. She gives herself a manicure as he works.

“The lavender one smells nice,” she says. Neil nods to himself and starts mixing.

After a few minutes of silence, he pipes up with a complaint. Who would’ve guessed. “There’s really less to this than I expected,” he deadpans, mixing in the drops of oil.

“The kit’s made for nine-year-olds, what _did_ you expect?” Gwen says dryly.

“I don’t know! Something a _little_ more complex. A toddler could’ve done this.”

“Tough shit,” Gwen responds, rolling her eyes. She spots Nikki examining the essential oil bottles.

“Hey,” she taps the girl on the shoulder, “Did you want to make one?” Nikki beams.

“Yeah! I was just looking over all of the flavors—”

“Not flavors, Nikki, you don’t eat them…” Neil interrupts.

“—And I think that I’m going to go with the tea tree one!”

Neil nods sagely, approving her choice. “Alright. No more than 6 drops per eight ounces. You don’t want your skin to break out.”

Nikki nods, looking to Gwen for approval. Gwen pushes the oil closer to her. Nikki shuffles around to find a more comfortable “mad science-ing” position. She sticks her tongue out in concentration and portions out exactly six even drops.

“Good job, Nikki,” Neil encourages. He hands her a small spatula. “Now mix it all together. Then we can put it in a bottle.”

Nikki grins and does as she’s told. She ends up decorating her bottle with her “logo” and rushes to the kitchen to sell her “product” to Max. She hears light-hearted bickering coming from the kitchen.

“Come get this _child_ ,” Max huffs, lightly shoving Nikki back into the living room, “She’s getting in my way.”

“Oh no, we wouldn’t want to get in the way of _chef Max,”_ Neil sasses.

“You’re goddamn right you don’t!” Max yells, giving them the stink eye and walking backwards into the kitchen. He trips over Gwen’s cat and stumbles, his eyes blowing wide as he tries to regain his balance. His hands hook around a drawer handle. The trio laughs at his misfortune.

“And take your damn cat, too!” He yells, throwing his hand over his heart to calm his breathing, “She almost killed me!”

“Snuggles? No, she couldn’t hurt a fly!” Gwen gasps, causing another fit of giggles. Max cracks a smile at their laughter. He squats down to the ground so that he’s eye-level with the feline.

“You listen to me, you little _bastard_ ,” he shakes his finger, putting on a show. The cat blinks slowly. “I need you to leave. Go hang out with your she-devil mother for all I care.” He points at Gwen, who laughs harder. “Just get out of my _way_.”

The cat, much to Gwen’s disappointment, follows his instructions and joins her on the couch. She hopes none of the feline’s fur will get in their creations. Seeing that Nikki and Neil have the lotions finished, she decides to put on her face mask.

A few minutes later, Max emerges with four bowls of rice. He hands them off one by one until he reaches Gwen. He does a double-take and looks to his friends, seemingly asking if they’ve realized Gwen looks like she fell face first into a pile of mud. When they shrug, he decides to ask: “What the fuck? You look awful!”

“Thanks Max, I can always count on you to make me feel good about my appearance.” She takes the bowl from him, careful not to mess up her nails, and rolls her eyes.

“It’s a face mask,” Neil informs him through a mouthful of rice.

“You’re next, since you made us food,” Nikki grins. Max’s jaw drops.

“Hell no, I’m not putting that shit on my face.”

“Come on, Max,” Gwen sings, waving the container around enticingly, “It might help get rid of the circles under your eyes!” Max reaches a tiny hand up to touch his cheek. Got him.

“Low blow, bitch. Give it here.” Prodding at a ten-year-old’s insecurities is admittedly not one of her most morally-sound ideas, but if it gets him to participate, she’ll take it.

Max ends up slathering way more product on his face than necessary, which causes Nikki to giggle at him. He swipes a finger into the goo and boops her on the cheek with it as revenge. Before Nikki can retaliate, Gwen gives them a warning glare. Neil rolls his eyes and finishes his last lotion bottle. He steals the face mask container from Max and starts on his own face, taking a bite of rice now and again as he works. Doing face masks while eating rice is their dumbest idea yet, but somehow, it’s working.

“I’m gonna go wash my hands,” Gwen announces. Max smears the last bit over his nose and follows her into the kitchen. Nikki follows too, not wanting to be left out.

Once their hands are dried, Gwen, Nikki, and Max eat their rice. Nikki finishes in record time and races to put her bowl in the sink, while Gwen and Max pick at theirs. Max cackles at Neil’s expressions as the science nerd smears the mask over his face.

“This feels terrible,” Neil complains. Gwen shrugs and reaches around him to grab the T.V. remote.

“Any requests?” She asks.

 _“Tangled!”_ Nikki yells.

“No!” The boys yell back in unison.

 _“Tangled_ it is.” Gwen gives them a shit-eating grin. They groan, but ultimately give in. Gwen starts the movie and the gang rushes to finish their food. Max, Gwen, and Neil eat the last of their rice and put their empty bowls in the kitchen. When they return, they snuggle up with blankets— Max huddles on the couch next to Gwen and Neil, while Nikki claims the armchair for herself. Snuggles makes herself comfortable on Gwen's lap. She scratches her behind the ear.

Everyone is invested in the movie, whether they want to admit it or not. When Gwen announces that it’s time to take the face masks off, everyone groans. She demonstrates the best way to peel it off, but her method does little to quell the expletives coming from the boys’ mouths.

“You whore!” Neil yells at a particularly stubborn section.

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!” Max hisses.

Nikki and Gwen take off their masks much more quietly, only hissing in pain when a piece of hair snags. Finally, they manage to get all of the mask off.

“That hurt like a bitch,” Max says, rubbing his face. Neil agrees vehemently.

“Can we do nails now?” Nikki asks, pushing the bowl of now-cold water closer. Honestly, Gwen kind of forgot about that part.

“Sure. Dump this water out and fill the other three of them with warm water.” She sends Nikki off and sets out the necessary supplies. She sees Nikki struggling, so she nudges Max to go an help her. He groans and stretches dramatically, making sure Gwen knows that she owes him.

“How do you even do it?” Neil asks once they’re alone, eyeing the various instruments.

“I’ll show you.” She looks over the items herself and decides that she doesn’t want to risk them getting an infection. “Tell you what, Neil, go in the hall bathroom and grab the rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet.”

Around the time Neil sets off, Nikki and Max each return with a bowl of water. Max repeats the process for the last bowl and helps situate them on towels on the floor in front of the TV.  Gwen pauses the movie so that they can hear her.

“Hurry up, Neil!” She yells. The boy briskly walks back in, holding out the bottle for her to take.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mutters. She takes it from him and cleans off both pairs of clippers. Once she’s satisfied with her work, she motions for Max to come over. She pats the floor in front of a towel and sits down across from him.

“So what do I—augh!” She cuts him off by taking his hands and dunking them into the water.

“Now stay there for ten minutes.”

“A little warning would have been nice!”

“You two,” she turns to Nikki and Neil, “Come and do the same thing. Pick out a color from this pile.”

Nikki flits around before finally settling on a bright orange. She says it reminds her of David. Max gags. Neil grabs a light purple, just because. They chit-chat while they soak their hands, not settling on a topic for too long before bouncing to the next.

“Okay, times up,” Gwen says, taking Max’s hands out of the water. He furrows his eyebrows as he observes her process. The other two lean in as well, interested to learn how to do it themselves.

“First, you cut the cuticles,” Gwen says, her words accentuated with snips, “Then you moisturize. Neil, give me a lotion.”

“You want mine, or Nikki’s?” He asks, giving her a skeptical look. Nikki pouts.

“Nikki’s was fine, Neil, we watched her make it.” Gwen sighs. “Just give me one, I don’t care.”

“Give me Nikki’s, because fuck you Neil,” Max says, eyeing Nikki’s sad face. Neil holds his hands up in surrender, but obliges. Max squirms as Gwen rubs the lotion into his skin.

“Stop moving!”

“I can’t, it tickles,” he lets out a small puff of air in lieu of a laugh. Gwen stores that bit of information for blackmail material later. She knows how to win a good tickle fight.

“Rub the rest of it in yourself, then.” She files his nails after he finishes. A quick layer of paint later, and Max looks mildly impressed.

“It actually looks good?” He flexes his hand in different angles and admires her work.

“Never doubt me. Nikki, do you want to try it yourself, or do you want me to do it?” Nikki perks up and grins.

“Myself! My mom always does it for me. I can do it!”

“Go crazy, kid,” Gwen deadpans, already knowing her nails will look terrible, but not wanting to discourage her, “Just do it over the towel. Don’t spill any on my carpet or you’re dead.” Before she can forget, she cleans off the cuticle cutters and snips the dead skin from Nikki’s nails.

“Neil? How about you?” Gwen averts her attention to the kid to her right. She cleans the cutters again, giving Neil time to make his choice.

“You do it,” he responds, chewing on his cheek, “I’ve never done it and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“There’s always nail polish remover,” Gwen shrugs, “But I don’t really care either way. Give me your hand.” Neil looks relieved.

Speaking of the boy, the question that’s been on her mind all evening rattles around in her brain. She tries to think of a strategy before diving in, but quickly abandons the thought. This isn’t like Max, with his deflection and distractions. This is Neil, who will likely spill the second he’s given the opportunity to vent.

“So,” she starts softly, “We’ve beat around the bush long enough.” She finishes his pinky nail and pulls away. “Why are your parents fighting?” Nikki and Max perk up at her words and give each other a look. Max tilts his head in the direction of the kitchen.

“Nikki, let’s go put up the rest of the food,” he says, blowing on his nails to dry them faster. Nikki nods. She only has one hand finished, but she catches the hint.

“Spill,” Gwen demands, once they’re gone.

Neil huffs. “I don’t know, man. My mom thinks my dad is cheating or some shit. Which is stupid.”

Gwen’s brain is stuck on a feedback loop of the word ‘yikes.’ She decides not to tell him what she knows. It’s none of her business.

“That sucks…” She settles with, and damn, she’s still not good at this comforting thing. You’d think she’d be an expert by now.

“I know. There’s really nothing I can do, though. I thought they were okay again, but I guess they’re not. I just want things to go back to normal.” He sniffs and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Gwen pulls him into a hug.

“I know things suck right now, but just remember that you have a family here, too. Max and Nikki love you to death. And...I think you’re pretty great too, even if you are a pretentious dick.” Neil hiccups a laugh. Gwen lets him cry it out. Like he said, there’s not much of a solution to this problem. Adults make things needlessly complicated sometimes. The least she can do is let him vent his frustrations.

Max and Nikki eventually tip-toe back in, giving Gwen a concerned look. She smiles at them, silently letting them know that Neil will be alright.

“Hey, Neil, do you wanna watch _Intersteller_ instead?” Max asks softly, presenting a rectangular box with a dramatic cover. Nikki smiles encouragingly, waving her arms around it as if she’s a model on _Deal or No Deal._ They must have went snooping.

Neil snorts and wipes the remaining tears from his eyes. “Sure,” he says in a thick voice, “Just let me dry my nails first.”

The kids decide that a hair dryer is obviously the best solution to their dilemma, so with Gwen’s permission, they root through her bathroom and bring it out. She’ll let them figure it out on their own.

Max’s nails were already dry by the time they broke out the dryer, so it didn’t affect his manicure. Nikki and Neil’s nails, however, dry with lots of bubbles, which was to be expected. Nikki doesn’t mind, though, claiming that they look much cooler. Like a lava pit, she says.

When Gwen is sure there’s no chance of the kids’ nail polish being sticky enough to transfer to her furniture, she helps them clean everything up. She plops the DVD into the disk tray and presses play. Then, they all return to their spots on the couch and armchair, piling as much blankets on themselves as they can. Snuggles ditches Max this time (seemingly still bitter about his choice words earlier) and investigates Nikki instead, who she decides is too fidgety for her liking. She settles for Gwen, patting her owners lap and curling up into a ball. Max reaches over and pets her as an apology.

The rise and fall of Hans Zimmer’s score quickly lulls Nikki and Max to sleep. She knows they only picked this movie for Neil. The thought makes her feel all soft and squishy inside. She looks over at Neil on the opposite side of the couch. He’s sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and a small smile on his face.

“You gonna be okay?” Gwen asks, loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough not to wake the others. Neil tears his eyes away from the movie and looks over at his friends, who are now snoring loudly.

“I think so.” He nods and gives her a determined smile. “Thanks, Gwen.”


	14. Cheese Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Avi and Max move in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYYY I'm back!  
> Sorry for the wait! I've been super busy with work, band camp, moving, and dog-sitting! I hope you guys like this chapter.

The week flies by. It’s been busy, but relatively positive, by Gwen’s standards. The camp is still standing and there are no major incidents to report. There was that one thing with Nikki, Dolph, and a rabid squirrel, but David settled it easily enough. She’s just glad that she has two whole days to herself. No kids, no responsibilities, no worries.

Leave it to Gwen to fucking jinx it.

On Friday, when she walks into the restaurant, Max looks up from his cleaning and pauses. He looks over his shoulder and after deciding the coast is clear, slams his rag and spray bottle on the table.

“Gwen!” Max whisper-yells, not missing a beat, “Did Avi tell you?!”

There are a lot of things Avi’s told her the past few days. How he managed to get the job he wanted, how he’s been sorting out all of the documents needed to rent an apartment, how they’ve been in contact with a social worker—all things that Max is well-aware of.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” Gwen says, shrugging.

“He signed the lease, you idiot! He moves in tomorrow!” Gwen’s face splits into a grin. Fucking finally!

“That’s great! Does he know when you’ll be able to start living with him?

“That…I’m not sure of. Avi said we need to talk more with the social worker.” He purses his lips and motions for her to sit down at the table.

“He’s going to let me move my stuff in tomorrow, though. My dad’s gonna be away,” he adds.

In a true Gwen fashion, her mouth moves without her permission: “Do you want me to come help?”

Gwen knows she’s allowed to go home and relax like she had planned. She knows that Max doesn’t need her to hold his hand—quite the opposite, really. However, the thought of this momentous change happening in his life without her at least _being_ there makes her stomach twist. She’s been the one constant, the _one_ common denominator in dealing with this fucked-up situation, and there’s no way in hell she’s stopping now.

“ _You_ want to waste your Saturday assembling fucking Ikea furniture and sweeping floors?”

“Yeah, shithead, I do,” Gwen huffs. Max gives her a puzzled look. He drums his black, chipping nails on the table, thinking it over.

“Fine. But I don’t want to hear your complaining.”

Gwen breathes a sigh of relief. They give Avi a call and ask for the details, to which he informs them that they can move in around ten a.m. tomorrow. Gwen almost groans at the early time before remembering Max’s warning. She’s not one for taking orders from a ten-year-old, but she knows any complaint from her will make him feel guilty.

After they hang up, Gwen orders her food to-go. She watches five episodes of Maury to wind down enough to sleep. She has an early morning ahead of her.

 ---

At bum-fuck o’clock in the morning, Gwen arises to the shrill sound of her phone alarm. She flops over and groans, swiping it from her bedside table. After a few more snoozes, she decides begrudgingly that she needs to wake up. If she sleeps in any longer, she’s going to be late.

_Would it really be the end of the world though?_ An unhelpful voice in the back of her head nags. _You’d probably just get in the way._ Frustrated with her self-defeating thoughts, Gwen decides to actually do what her therapist advises for once and comes up with a rebuttal.

_That’s not true and you know it. You’ll be able to help plenty. Shut up and get dressed._

Gwen shrugs on an old T-shirt and shorts. Her anxiety’s not going away any time soon, but she’s going to do the goddamn thing in spite of it. _You hear that, Melissa? You can kindly fuck off now._

When Gwen arrives at Avi’s new address, she’s surprised to find that there’s no moving truck. He must not have very much with him in America. The only things resembling furniture are some beat-up Ikea boxes that Avi is heaving out of his truck. Great. Looks like they’re going to have to go shopping. Just another thing for Gwen to stress out about.

That thought makes Gwen pause as she steps out of the car. That’s _not_ something she has to stress out about. Avi’s fully capable of buying a goddamn couch. She’s seen his paycheck. It’s not like he’s rich or anything, but if he put it on credit, he could certainly pay it off in a few months.

_Why is she still so worried, then?_

“Gwen, are you just going to stand there like a zombie, or are you going to help?” Max yells. Gwen startles, almost dropping her keys. He sighs and grabs her hand, leading her to the trunk of Avi’s car.

“You good?” He asks, eyeing her warily. Gwen nods. He gives her a strange look, obviously not believing her. He pulls out a box labeled in Hindi. He plops it into her arms carelessly, causing her to stumble under the weight.

“Bathroom,” he instructs. He goes back to digging in the trunk, not even sparing her a second glance. With another nod, Gwen walks up the narrow sidewalk into the house. She hears banging going on in the living room. Curious, she pauses in the archway.

Avi’s sitting in the middle of the living room floor, eyebrows furrowed, assembling a coffee table. There are now blue curtains draped on the windows behind him, fluttering with the breeze from the air conditioning. There are boxes full of things scattered about, each with Avi’s flowing penmanship marking the sides in a language she doesn’t understand. Mr. Honeynuts rests in a box next to the man as a silent observer. She locks eyes with the bear.

Her stomach twists.

“Gwen! Hello! It is so nice to see you!” Avi greets, looking up from the various nails and screws in front of him. He sets his hammer down with a _thunk_. “Thank you for coming to help us today!”

Gwen pulls the box closer to her chest. “Yeah, no problem.”

Avi grins at her. She shifts on her feet. A sudden urge to flee envelopes her whole body and she’s not sure why. “I’m just gonna…Go put these in the bathroom.”

“Yes, of course! Thank you, Gwen,” he responds, turning his attention to an instruction pamphlet.

Gwen walks down the small hallway, cataloging which room is which is for future reference. The apartment isn’t very big; it’s only a one bedroom and a bathroom difference from Gwen’s, but the layout itself is rearranged. It seems like Avi’s room is the one closest to the living room, judging by the boxes of his stuff sitting next to the door. The master bath should be connected to that room, then.  Max’s room is at the end of the hall, with the small guest bathroom across from it. She chews the inside of her cheek. She’s not sure which bathroom to take the items to.

She takes a peek inside the box. She finds a white toothbrush in a bag with three new fluffy, blue towels nestled underneath. In the corner lies a package of soap in a cardboard box, along with “curl-revitalizing” shampoo and conditioner, a cheap speaker, and black nail polish.

_Okay, this is definitely Max’s stuff._ Happy with her analysis, she deposits the box on the sink in the small bathroom with a huff of effort.

After several more trips in and out of the house, Gwen and Max manage to get _most_ of the stuff inside. Avi finishes his table, which looks less steady than she would like (Seriously, how did the engineer of the family manage to struggle building a table, with directions, no less?), and the three break for lunch.

Lunch consists of Gwen running uptown to grab a pizza while the boys continue to unpack. They settle on a large cheese pizza with thick crust (Max insists its superior to thin crust) and some bread sticks. Avi stuffs some money into her hand before she leaves, but she doesn’t plan on using it. She’ll slip it back into his wallet later. This is one last nice thing she can do for Max.

_Geeze, Gwen, you act like you’re never going to see him again. He’s literally right down the street,_ a voice in her mind says, sounding a lot like Max. She sighs and avoids thinking about it.

When she returns, she finds Max and Avi in the middle of a battle. Max is adorned with a shield made from the bottom of a cardboard box and a small box on his head as armor. He’s equipped with a taped-together paper towel roll sword, which he swings his at Avi, who ducks behind the new table and laughs. Avi reaches in a box to his left and throws packing peanuts at his attacker.

Despite it being a cute scene, something ugly twists in her chest. She knocks on the archway and shifts the pizza so that it rests on her hip. She gives them a disappointed look, the one that Nikki once said could make even criminals feel bad.

Avi stops his airstrike of packing peanuts to take note of Gwen’s jutted-out hip and no-nonsense face. He has the sense to look guilty, but Max, of course, only grins wider.

“Come here, she-devil! We saved you some landmines!” He reaches in a box and waggles some large bubble-wrap sheets in her direction.

Normally Gwen would laugh and play along. However, something about today is pissing her off and she doesn’t know what it is. She feels the urge to snatch the sword out of his hand and throw it out of the window.

“Nah, I’m good,” she dismisses, eager to get her mind off of the mean-spirited impulses, “You guys are cleaning all of this up, though.”

The boys look around and take in the carnage. “That’s fair,” Avi shrugs, smiling sheepishly. Gwen wants to punch him.

\---

Lunch is nothing but awkward. The boys pick up on Gwen’s stand-offish mood and elect not to disturb her too much. The melty cheese tastes amazing in her mouth, but the experience is soured by the worried looks Max keeps shooting Avi out of the corner of his eye. Gwen tries to ignore it.

After lunch, the next step is to start cleaning and putting things away. Max is grabbing the last few boxes from the truck while she gets a head start on his room. Cleaning is easy enough—a little sweeping here, some disinfectant spray there—and before she knows it, she’s finished. She stops in the middle of the room, hands on her hips, and wonders what the hell is taking Max so long.

She checks outside, pointedly avoiding Avi’s curious eyes on her way out, and finds the boy struggling with a large box. He mutters a string of curses and tugs to no avail. Gwen hops up and takes a seat on the bed of the truck, rolling her eyes.

“Why don’t you take _that one_ , squirt?” She points at a lightweight box to his right. He glares at her and doesn’t stop his pointless endeavor. “I’ll grab this one.”

“Fuck off, Gwen. I can do it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes!” He hisses. At that moment, the bottom gives way and plates tumble to the concrete. Max stops and stares at the broken pieces, mouth agape, as if that will magically fix things.

“Holy shit!” He hisses. He looks up at Gwen and there’s a glimmer of fear in his eyes. “Avi’s gonna be pissed.”

Gwen shrugs, resisting the urge to tell him “I told you so.” Really, it wasn’t _all_ his fault. The box wasn’t sturdy enough to hold all of those plates in the first place, but if he would have let her help, she could have carried the box with more support on the bottom.

_But would you have?_ She asks herself. _You probably would have messed it up too._

“Gwen, what do we do?”

A spark of irritation causes her to clench her fists. “We?” She hisses, _"You’re_ going to tell Avi that you dropped the stuff. I didn’t do shit.”

Max bites his lip and glances at the porcelain glittering in the hot sun. It’s obvious he wants to scream, shout, and throw a tantrum, but he remains unnervingly quiet. Gwen’s not sure what to make of this. She feels bad for snapping at him.

“You don’t want me to stay here, do you?”

Gwen’s jaw drops.

“What? Of course I do! Did you forget that _I’m_ the one who helped Avi find this place?” As soon as Gwen's voice rises, the dam breaks. Max can't hold back his anger anymore.

“You’ve been pissy all day! And now you want me to get in trouble so Avi’ll have an excuse to send me back!”

“What? No!”

“One good thing is finally happening to me and you can’t stand it! You’re just like _them!”_ Max bites. He grabs the smaller box and turns on his heel.

“Max, wait—”

He stomps inside, only to return a minute later with a broom and dustpan. He stoops to the ground and starts sweeping, making sure to avoid Gwen’s eyes. Hurt radiates off of him in waves, and unshed tears glimmer behind his eyelashes.

Gwen really was a piece of work. How is it that despite her best intentions, she always ends up hurting him? This move really is the best thing for Max.

“Max, I’m sorry, let me help—”

“No, you didn’t do shit, remember? It’s not your problem.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Drop it, Gwen,” Max growls, standing up on his feet. He deposits the broken shards into an empty Walmart bag and ties a knot. With one last glare, he walks inside, clutching the bag with a death-grip.

Gwen drops her head in her hands and lets out a frustrated scream. She stays there in the darkness of her hands for a while, perfectly content to ignore the sun beating down on her back and the passage of time. Maybe if she stays outside long enough, they’ll forget she was even there in the first place. They can go back to playing swords and being happy. Gwen will alone and insignificant again and—

Oh.

That’s what this is about.

Before she can think of it any further, she hears the screen door open and shut. Max probably wants to come out and yell at her some more. She wouldn’t blame him. She blearily opens her eyes, blinking away the colorful dots in her vision.

To her surprise, it’s not Max, but Avi who climbs up and sits next to her.

“Hey,” he says, tilting his head, “Are you alright?” Gwen shrugs. Avi glances back to the screen door, where they can both see Max peeking out and eavesdropping. Once he’s caught, however, he scurries away. Avi smiles softly. They both know he probably went to find a new eavesdropping location somewhere less obvious.

“He’s angry with you,” Avi observes. Gwen scoffs and shifts her head in his direction.

“I’m just being a piece of shit. As always.”

“Mmm…Maybe,” he says. His hesitation to agree with her makes her giggle. Avi smiles proudly, like he’s won the lottery. After a moment of watching the kids play basketball across the street, Avi frowns.

“He told me about the plates,” he says, “He thought I was going to be mad and send him back. He’s scared about this whole situation, Gwen, even if he doesn’t want to admit it.” Gwen nods, feeling even more awful.

“But,” he continues, “I think maybe you are scared too?” Gwen nods again, despising his ability to read her so well. Just another thing that makes Avi superior.

Avi sighs and tucks his legs up to his chest, mimicking Gwen’s posture. “I think…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I think, I am scared, as well.”

This throws Gwen for a loop. Ever since she and David got Avi on the right track, he’s been nothing but diligent in his care for Max. Gwen sees less and less of Max the more Avi gets his shit together. Soon, she’s going to be obsolete. What does Avi have to be afraid of? He’s the one doing everything right.

“Why?” Gwen asks. She finds herself genuinely concerned and less spiteful than she was before his confession.

He watches the kids chase a ball as it rolls down the street. “This custody battle is going to be hard for both of us." The ball gets stuck in a hedge. “I don’t want to mess this up for him,” Avi’s voice cracks. He turns away and takes off his glasses. He swipes his eyes with the back of his sleeve and deposits the glasses back on the bridge of his nose.

“Sorry,” he says, ducking his head. Gwen awkwardly pats him on the back.

“Hey, it’s okay. For the record, I think you’re doing a great job.” She really means it. The meetings with the social worker, the paperwork with Max’s mom, trying to convince Max’s dad even though the man still despises him—he’s taken all of this bullshit in stride and Gwen couldn’t be prouder.

“I think…” She continues, “You’re going to do a great job. Max adores you. And even if he doesn’t need me anymore, I’ll still always be here.” Avi sniffs and looks at her quizzically.

“What do you mean? Of course he needs you.” Gwen shrugs and studies her shoes.

“I’m very serious, Gwen! Do you know how much he talks about you? How much he admires you? You are just as much his guardian as I am.” Her chest feels warm at these words, but she feels sucker-punched when she remembers how much she doesn’t deserve the praise.

“I have a funny way of showing it then, huh?” She chuckles, self-deprecatingly. Avi tilts his head.

“I don’t understand?”

Gwen sighs, uncurling herself and sitting back with her hands behind her, supporting her weight. “I’ve been so…jealous and anxious and _scared_ that I took it out on him today.”

Avi nods, but chuckles a second later as he remembers something.

“What?” Gwen asks, not happy to be mocked, especially when she’s putting her emotions on full display like this.

“Not you,” Avi assures, “Max. He was the same way. After we had the meeting with the social worker. He was so stressed out that he yelled at me over what ice cream flavor I picked. Ice cream!” He gestures with his hands. Gwen laughs, picturing the scene in her head. Max throwing a fit in the Walmart isle as Avi frantically tries to calm him down.

Avi smiles again. “I think you two are more alike than you think. He will understand. Just,” he pauses, “Remember you’re important to us, okay? We care about you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Gwen says, grinning. She hops off of the truck bed and offers Avi a hand. He takes it, hesitantly, and lands with an “oof.”

“Whatever happens, you, David and I will handle it together, okay?” Gwen says. The reassurance was meant for him, however, it wraps around her own body in a quiet hug of relief.

“Always.”

As the two walk back to the door, Max stops them on the porch by barreling into Gwen’s leg. He squeezes tight and she feels droplets of moisture beading on her leg. She scoops him up and carries him inside. Avi gives her a patented Max shit-eating grin that she didn’t know he was capable of. She’s proving his point and she hates it.

(She loves it.)

She apologizes softly as she holds him close to her chest. Max nods and squeezes her tighter. Avi gives her a thumbs up out of Max’s sight. Wanting to lighten the atmosphere, she sets the boy down gently and nudges him in the direction of the empty boxes.

“Okay, so where the hell is _my_ sword, Max? I think you two owe me a decent fight.”

Max gives her a wobbly smile and pulls a rectangle of bubble wrap out of his pocket. He slams it over her head, causing a loud _pop_.

Gwen blinks in surprise. _Oh, it’s war now, kid._ Avi kicks a hanger in her direction and gives her a goofy look, like he’s trying not to laugh. She raises her hanger. She’s not sure who’s on what team, but she _does_ know that _her_ indicators of success are Max’s spirited war-cries and Avi’s giggles of surrender.

Needless to say, she wins the battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Melissa is Gwen's therapist btw if it wasn't clear! I had a lot of fun writing about Gwen's anxiety/insecurities. I included a lot of her thoughts, so I hope it's not too off-putting. We really needed a Gwen and Avi chapter, guys. They're both trying so hard.


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